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chelseeebe · 4 months

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still into you, part 2

eddie’s back, keeping to his word while trying to make up for his past mistakes. will it all work out when your worlds collide?

sauurrr i feel like i want to do a part 3 bc i have ideas but i’m not sure !!??!! also i just wanna say that it’s felt sooo good seeing people in my notifications again, tumblr finally unshadowed me after emailing them god knows how many times !!

18+, mdni. smut. a lil bit of angst and mean words towards reader and mentions of pregnancy. no use y/n!

read part 1 here.

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he’s late.

you’d spoken on the phone this morning and eddie had told you he’d be back some time tonight and that you should wait up because it’ll be worth it.

and now he’s fucking late.

late or not even coming.

it had been a long month of phone calls and anxiously reading magazine articles about his whereabouts, learning to trust again hadn’t been easy. there had been a handful of times where he’d called too late and missed you or you’d called while he was out which meant you’d gone days without speaking.

steve had done his best to reassure you that it was just different out there and you shouldn’t worry. he’d made a promise, right?

but there’s a pressure in your chest now, a feeling you hadn’t felt since the first time he left. defeated and dejected once again.

eddie is so late that you fall asleep on the couch. the same couch you first kissed him on just a few weeks ago. your dreams are filled with images of eddie, the wide smile that graced his face when ella forced him into fairy wings or the look on his face when you’d roll over in the middle of the night and kissed the corner of his mouth.

you’re awoken by a soft palm cupping your cheek, eyes peeking open to see the familiar silhouette of curls and denim now illuminated by the flickering television, deep set frown on his lips.

“i’m so sorry,” he starts, the words sound like static in your barely conscious mind, “my plane was delayed and i couldn’t call you.. i’m so fucking sorry,” you realise he’s on his knees in front of the couch, still squinting as you adjust to the light.

“i thought you weren’t coming,” you murmur, placing your hand atop his, the pressure in your chest subsiding the more you realise that he’s actually real and not just a dream.

eddie sighs, it’s his fault for even giving you reason to have those doubts and that kills him. “of course not.. i made a promise,” his thumb strokes gentle patterns into your cheek, “i’m coming back, always.”

“mhm,” you nod, a mix of tiredness and a lingering lack of trust.

“you wanna go to bed?” he asks, desperate to get in your good books again. hell, he’d have to do far more than this to make seven years of shit up to you.

“only if you carry me,” offering your arms out, if ella can do it, you can to.

“obviously,” he chuckles, sliding his arms underneath your knees, hoisting you off of the couch.

you’re anything but quiet walking up stairs, giggling into his neck as he groans his way up the staircase. “fuck, i’m getting old,” he complains, backing his way into your room, gently laying your body on top of the duvet before knocking the door shut.

you nestle into the pillows, watching eddie as he undresses, his jacket hitting the floor with a soft thud. he’d only been gone a month but you’d missed his presence. the way his eyes glided over your body, enamoured by your less-than-impressive mom body.

he collapses onto the bed, shuffling underneath the blanket with you, reaching out to bring you closer. “i know i said..” his nose pokes against your neck, a deep inhale before he continues, “that it’d be worth it.. but i’m tired and you’re tired so.. can i just make it up to you tomorrow?” nuzzling against your soft skin.

your laugh vibrates against his cheek, sliding your arms around his neck, legs tangling together in a mess of limbs, “eddie munson turning down sex? jesus christ, what’s happened to you?”

eddie grunts, deep and husky, flipping the situation on it’s head as he clambers on top, “oh fuck you,” his barely holding himself up, body weight keeping you pressed firmly against the mattress.

“please do,” grinning up at him, marvelling the way that even in the dark, he was still the prettiest man you’d ever laid eyes on.

his lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your jawline, hips rutting against the thin material of your pajama shorts.

when his mouth meets the delicate spot between your collarbone and the crook of your neck, you can’t help but let slip the one thing you’d been waiting to say, “i’m glad you came back,” gasping as his teeth graze the fragile skin.

he pauses, looking up at you, basked in moonlight, “i’ll always come back to you,” mumbling quietly, before continuing his descent down your body.

your eyes flutter shut, allowing your body to relax, blissful desire overcoming every nerve.

holy shit, you were happy.

the next few months go by smoothly. he’s back when he says he’s going to be, keeping his nose clean and his head down while he’s out on the west coast.

of course it’s never easy saying goodbye. each and every time you’re filled with this sense of dread, petrified that this might just be the time he doesn’t return.

but he does.

each and every time.

eddie had got back late last night, still half-asleep as he sips his coffee next to ella, haphazardly feeding her the breakfast she was quite capable of feeding herself.

“i’ve been thinking,” he starts, watching as you busy about with dishes. he doesn’t understand how you have the energy to care about that shit this early in the morning. “i think you should come out to california with me.. next time i go back,” shoving a spoonful of mushy pancakes into ella’s mouth.

you pause but don’t turn to face him, staring down at the sink full of bubbles, “what for?”

that part of his life didn’t interest you one bit, maybe he enjoyed it and you were happy if he was but that wasn’t anything you wanted. in fact, you’d been meaning to bring it up for a while now.

you understood that dating eddie meant that strangers were far more interested in your relationship than they should be but they’d started to accost you at work, taking ella to and from school, just about anywhere in public. the attention was starting to get a little tiring, nothing you couldn’t handle but you’d wondered if he somehow had the power to stop them.

“well,” handing the spoon to ella and getting up from the table to join you at the sink, “we’ve got our album rollout soon so i’m gonna have to be out there a little longer this time,” his shoulder knocks into yours, pulling your attention from the dirty dishes, “but.. we have our release party and i want you to be there,” pulling that cheeky grin he knew you couldn’t say no to.

how much longer? he was already out there for weeks at a time, how much longer could they keep him? oh god what if they go on tour? you’d never cope.

“release party?” grabbing the dishcloth, wiping the suds from your hands, “i don’t even know what that is.. you don’t want me there,” turning to face him and his sickening smile.

“of course i do,” lips turning into a frown, taking the cloth from your hands, “it’s a small party.. the boys and their girlfriends.. a few people who helped on the album,” he’s serious now, dipping his head to meet yours. “they wanna meet you, everyone does.”

you sigh, looking into his gleaming eyes. you’re obviously apprehensive to agree, if the stories you’d heard of the other guys were anything to go by, that weren’t the goofy nerds you’d once watch practice all night, now you think you’d actually probably hate them.

“what about ella?” turning to look at your daughter, your one saving grace.

“i’m sure we can figure that out,” eddie blinks, “steve can have her or.. or his mom,” throwing out anything he could think of, “i’ll throw them some money, make sure she has the best week ever,” rubbing his fingers together.

“he won’t take your money eddie,” you sigh. steve would never, because as much as he now liked eddie, he was still your best friend and he knew you’d kill him if he did.

“no,” eddie whines, “it’s not for steve, it’s for ella.. so they can go and do whatever they want.. eat whatever they want.. you know,” he peers over your shoulder at the kitchen table, eyes gleaming with opportunity. “ella, don’t you think mommy should come with me and you can have a vacation at uncle steve’s house?”

you tut as ella chimes in with a loud, enthusiastic “yes!” banging her fists against the table.

your palm meets his chest, “don’t use my own child against me, asshole,” struggling to stop your lips from curling into a smile. it was working and you hated the fact that you were so easily swayed by him.

“ella has spoken!” he exclaims, taking your hand on his chest into his, “so you’ll come?” cocking his head to the side, much like a tiny, manipulative little dog.

you huff, admitting defeat, “fine.. but only if steve says yes and there’s no guarantee he will,” flicking your eyes back over to ella, who is watching with a massive toothy grin.

it’s times like these that you’re grateful she doesn’t take after her dad.

of course steve says yes. useless prick.

“why don’t you wanna go?” his brows furrowed, sipping the overpriced coffee he’d suggested you go get.

“can you imagine me in la? me? really?”

he chuckles, “yeah.. yeah i can actually,” shaking his head. knowing steve, he’d probably been thinking about how he would fit right in there. if you ever did end up moving west, there’s no way in hell that you’d leave him here.

“shut up,” brushing him off, “what if nobody likes me?”

it had been a genuine worry of yours since before eddie had even asked. there’d surely be a thousand eyes on you seeing as you were now very publicly with him. you paled in comparison to his exes. models and singers alike. you were just some frumpy mom who no one had ever heard of.

why would they like you?

“stop it,” steve swats at you, “they’ll love you! i love you so they’ve got no reason not to!”

but you weren’t so sure.

so after weeks of fretting about clothes and deliberating over whether you should even go with steve, you jet off to lax.

you’d attempted to pay for your own ticket but eddie hadn’t accepted any of it. told you it was all taken care of and all you had to do was go. much to your disapproval.

there are a few fans at the airport, with no interest in you, obviously. they were so used to him at indianapolis airport now that the paps didn’t even bother.

eddie’s excited babbling about the party keeps you relaxed throughout the flight, focussing on his smile and not the fact that you were thirty thousand feet in the air.

everything starts to feel real when you land and are immediately ushered through the airport, bundled into a car and told to stay put until they got your luggage.

holy shit.

“there’s some dickheads out front.. it’s just so we don’t see them,” eddie soothes, taking your hand into his, resting on his thigh.

“is it always like this?” you ask, curious about this side of his life that you never saw. even more grateful that people in indiana mostly left you alone now.

“sometimes.. but they’re only doing this because of the album.”

you nod, sitting in quiet reflection as people come and go constantly. bustling around the car, muttering things to eddie as they do. it all just seemed so overwhelming, like there was never a moment alone.

eventually, your bags get stuffed into the car and you begin the journey to god knows where, all the while clinging onto eddie’s hand with a iron tight grip.

when you turn into a gated driveway, you sit up. peering out of the window at the glorious garden. his drive was bigger than your entire house, you couldn’t imagine having this much room at your disposal.

his house is big. actually, big is an incredible understatement. it’s breathtaking.

nicer than anything you’ve seen before. you couldn’t even begin to materialise how much he must have spent. you’re not sure you even want to know.

the ceilings loom ten feet tall, walls covered in tasteful but overpriced art. the sofa alone probably cost more than your entire house. christ, it’s the size of your living room as it is.

“jesus christ,” you breathe, still taking in the lavish house, gawping at the tacky statues and the glistening glass chandelier hanging above your head.

“nice, isn’t it?” he states, still wheeling your suitcases behind him, “obviously i didn’t decorate it myself.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you smile, marvelling the rather excessive house, “you don’t need all of this,” gesturing around the room.

“hey,” he pouts, ditching the suitcases to make his away over to you, “this house used to be very useful when..” trailing off as he realises just what he was going to say.

“when what? when you were a whore?” you bite, only half-joking.

“woah,” awkwardly laughing, unsure of whether you were joking or not, “when i had parties,” correcting your presumptions, “but i’m a boring man now.. thanks to you,” his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his body.

your arms return the favour, tilting your chin to match his, “hmm is that right?”

his eyes are no longer on yours, gazing down at your lips with a twinkle of lust, “yup..”

“oh, well maybe i should just go..” but before you can finish, his hands are grabbing your ass, palming at the doughy flesh.

“uh uh,” pressing your heads together, pausing just before he connects your lips, “i’m never letting you leave now,” and with that, he finally kisses you.

skilfully walking you backward through the large foyer, still palming at your ass as he does so. you should’ve known that this was first on the agenda. there weren’t as many opportunities for the two of you to have sex at your house.

his lips hang from yours, leeching onto your bottom lip, palming at your sweater, eager to get it off. “i’ve thought about having you in every single room in this house..” he mumbles into your mouth, making your cheeks burn.

“every.. room?” you speak softly through kisses, bashful at his words.

“mmm,” he grumbles, hand slipping under the soft material of your sweater, brushing over the curve of your waist, “need you.. here,” walking your body back into the marble counter, your lips still barely connected, “in there,” gesturing back towards the grand living room, “everywhere,”

your thighs squeeze together in anticipation of it all. you were flying back home in a week, there was not a chance you’d get through the entirety of this massive house in that short time.

eddie growls into your mouth, hoisting your body onto the countertop in one swift movement, forcing his way between your legs. you can feel his cock already, pressed against your throbbing cunt.

his tongue slides into your mouth, moving against your own with hungry movements. you were too old for this kind of excitement, the ferocity was making your head spin.

his hands are quick, working your sweater off without much interruption, immediately finding your lips again. your hips cant, chasing the needed friction of his cock, eager to strip him from the rough denim.

“someone’s impatient,” a rough laugh echoes from his lips, but he’s obliging. unbuttoning your jeans before patting your thigh to move for him.

you do, letting his cold hands slide your jeans down your thighs, stuck around your ankles as he’s really not concerned with taking them off fully. you’re soaked already, can feel it when the fresh air hits your heat.

eddie’s focused now, his own pants pulled down around his knees, cock jumping in his boxers when your hand reaches out to touch his chest. you liked that. the fact that even now, you could control him with a simple touch.

“jesus baby,” he remarks, two fingers slipping between the crotch of your underwear, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this,” mouth hanging open as he works his way between your soaked folds and into your hole, eliciting a sharp gasp from your mouth.

he’s slow with it, curling his fingers at just the right spot, “oh god,” you whisper, one hand clinging to his forearm, the other holding onto the hard counter.

your eyes flutter shut, head rolling back, granting him access to your untouched neck. he immediately attacks the delicate skin, no doubt leaving his mark like some unruly teenager.

“need you now baby..” he grumbles, removing his hand from between your legs and nudging his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring up, already leaking with pre-cum.

“yeah.. yeah,” muttering into the room, heels attaching around his hips, urging him to speed things up.

his hair brushes against your neck as he gazes down between your bodies, staring in awe at the way they connected, almost losing all composure when his cock nestles between your folds and slides perfectly into your quivering cunt.

pretty pink lips parting to groan when he bottoms out, savouring the feeling for just a moment before his hips take over. his pelvis connects with the backs of your thighs, finding his rhythm, seeking whatever pace made you the loudest.

your quiet squeaks aren’t enough for him, after years of being quiet, you’re not used to having the freedom to be loud.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he pants, hand skirting around your hip, squeezing the flesh, “i wanna hear you,” slipping out of your cunt, refusing to give you what you want without something in return.

your eyes open to eddie, staring right back at you, devilish grin on his lips, “don’t be mean,” you pout, squeezing your legs to pull him forward, huffing in frustration when he keeps back.

his forehead presses against yours, glossy eyed as he gazes into your eyes, “this what you want?” he bites before sinking back in, profanities tumble out of his mouth.

a disgusting whine finds itself at your lips, filling the space between you, drawing his gaze to your wetted lips. “that’s it baby,” thrusts starting to gain speed, his tip bullying your walls.

you can’t help but get louder, keeping your eyes trained on his dilated pupils, moaning with each time his pubic bone brushes against your starved clit. knuckles turning white as you grip onto the counter, chanting his name like some sort of mantra.

“there she is,” he pants, slamming into you with such speed that makes you feel as if you’re flying. it’s filthy how much the wet, pornographic noises your bodies are making spurs you on. only wanting to get louder to match them.

eddie’s thumb meets your neglected clit, circling the bud in line with his thrusts. the pleasure is overwhelming, sending your head into the clouds and your stomach hurtling toward your long-awaited orgasm.

“eddie..” drawing out his name, letting it echo through the decadent kitchen, “fuck,” fingernails leaving behind half-moon markings on his forearm, unsupported by the ruthless motion of his thumb against your clit.

you’re struggling to even stay with it, gasping for breath as your walls tighten around him. sighing as he begins to falter, “you gonna cum princess? huh?” beads of sweat beginning to form on his nose, holding his own orgasm off to allow you yours first.

“yeah.. yeah,” you babble nonsensically, “oh fuck.. oh eddie,” thighs trembling around his hips as you topple over the edge, holding onto the counter for dear life as your orgasm takes over.

body going numb as the fuzzy feeling takes over, watching his lips mouth that’s it and baby’s over and over. trying not to topple over as his cock continues to nudge against your spongy walls, slowing as his own orgasm begins.

“cum in me,” you urge, completely besotted by your own desire for him, “please,” resorting to begging when his eyes squeeze shut, unable to hold himself off any longer.

he grunts, you coax him through it, ankles still resting at the small of his back, unrelenting with their grip as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum, painting your walls. “shit- baby.. i- you-,” he puffs, “what the fuck,” throwing his head back, his messy fringe sticking to his damp forehead.

“sorry..” you mumble, ashamed by the way you turn into a ravenous monster around eddie, wanting to give him your all and nothing else.

“jesus christ don’t apologise,” his hands clamp around your cheeks, pulling your face to his for one final kiss, mumbling a quick i love you before helping you from the counter.

eddie’s in his element here, not that he didn’t make himself at home in your home, but this was his domain.

there’s a strange twinge in your heart, a rogue voice that occasionally makes an appearance, something that made you question whether he was really happy with your little life or if it was just something he was accepting for the time being.

you bury it down, refusing to let it grow into anything more and follow him down the hall, listening to him complain about his back.

nothing could’ve prepared you for the party. it couldn’t have been further from how eddie had initially sold it to you.

it’s all bright lights and thousands of people. expensive dresses and unfamiliar faces fill the room, prodding and poking at eddie and subsequently you. wanting to know the ins and outs of everything.

fuck. you think. this is suffocating.

there’s no release, people are fucking everywhere.

even after you gulp down a glass of wine, people whizz around you, echoing fake niceties about your dress or your hair or whatever materialistic bullshit they were pretending to care about.

eddie is a natural of course. he’s been doing this for years. he always had the ability to carry a conversation, to make people listen to him. you weren’t so lucky.

he’s prattling on about some sick riff on the new album now, barely giving you chance to let him know you’re going to the bathroom.

hoping to seek some solace from these vultures. you so wished steve was here. he’d make everything feel better, tell you that it was okay and that these people don’t deserve your time.

but he’s not. he’s a thousand miles away, probably tucked up in bed with ella. somewhere you longed to be.

after a long ten minutes in the cubicle, uttering a chorus of positive affirmations to yourself, you push your way out, right into the crowd of very glamorous women all stood in front of the mirrors. reapplying their makeup or touching up their already stiff hair.

one of the older ladies takes notice of you lingering behind, turning to face you with a smug smile, “you’re eddie’s new thing, aren’t you?”

venom laced between her words, rolling effortlessly off of her sharp tongue. the other women all turn in tandem, all narrowed eyes and faux smiles.

“uh.. i’m his girlfriend,” shaking their glances off, focusing on the stream of running water on your hands and not the prickly feeling at the back of your throat.

“oh! girlfriend!” she titters, barging into one of the other, “usually they don’t make it that far.. what d’you have that the others didn’t?” her icy gaze runs the length of your body.

no doubt judging your dress, the way your mom body sat in the lavish fabric. you don’t blame her. you’d hated it from the moment you first looked in the mirror.

“we..” clearing your throat to avoid your voice cracking, “we used to date.. in high school,” you could feel yourself physically shrinking, reverting back into the same quiet girl you were in school.

“aw sweet,” there’s not even a hint of sincerity in her nasally tone, “well you know, we all thought gigi was gonna be the one,” the other women nod in agreement, “he was just different with her.. everyone thought he was going to propose.. never seen him like that since,” nodding like she’d won a contest you weren’t even competing in.

her words sting, and she knows it. in fact, she relishes it. even though you know she’s only doing it for some sort of reaction, you still let them in. your heart prangs in your chest; now stood frozen in front of the basin.

“you have a kid, don’t you?” she continues, clearly unhappy with your lack of reaction. wanting to stick her claws in just a little deeper.

you nod, biting down hard onto the inside of your cheek. trying to swallow the growing lump in the back of your throat.

her eyes wander down once again, “yeah i thought so.. eddie always said he didn’t want kids,” tutting her shiny white teeth, “i wouldn’t expect him to hang around long, he’s at the peak of his career darling.. no time for high school sweethearts and their kids.”

and that’s it. the final blow. slicing through your chest, churning your guts from the inside out. a stranger had affirmed every single fear and doubt you’d had. crumbling the facade you’d curated for this fucking party.

you don’t even give her the satisfaction of a reply, or perhaps you give her exactly what she wanted, storming out of the bathroom with a trembling bottom lip and watering eyes.

instead of going straight back to eddie, you find a quiet corner, facing the wall as you collect yourself the best you can. your throat hurts, the lump struggling to disappear, tears threatening to spill over as you attempt to remember how to breathe.

eddie is higher than you’ve ever seen him before, relishing in the moment. he’s completely different out here. talking to any and every one, turning the charm on the second someone walks his way.

“eds,” mumbling quietly, tugging on his arm to garner his attention.

you hated him a little for even convincing you to come. why couldn’t he have just sent pictures? no fuck that, why couldn’t he have just stayed here and never forced his way back into your life?

you don’t mean it. you love him.

“hmm?” not quite looking at you.

“i wanna go back.. i don’t feel good.”

this is where he turns, focusing his attention on you, brows furrowing immediately, “what? what’s wrong?”

now, you could tell him. let him know that his friends were assholes and you were either going to burst into tears or run out of this place screaming. but decide to leave it until you’re back at his, there was no use in causing drama on his night.

“i just..” you sigh, dipping your head low so no one else could hear, “i don’t feel good.. maybe i’m sick,” it wasn’t a lie as such. your stomach had been turning all night but you’d brushed it off as anxiety, eager to not ruin the party.

“well-,” he begins but stops, “d’you want me to come with you?” though you can tell he really doesn’t want to. you don’t blame him.

eddie’s always been an extrovert, begging for people to pay attention to him, even if it meant tussling with basketball players or anyone else that dared to question his character. he just wanted people to notice him.

“no no.. i just wanted to let you know,” chewing on your bottom lip, his face becoming increasingly more concerned with every word. you hope he hasn’t noticed your watery eyes, not in the mood to have to explain what had happened right here, right now.

“okay.. we can go, it’s okay,” eddie soothes, picking up that something wasn’t right.

this is what you’d tried to avoid, not wanting to selfishly snatch him away from his event, his friends and his album launch.

“no.. stay here, i’ll be fine, just need to.. rest,” brushing him off, as if you wouldn’t kill to just curl up in his big bed, talking away all of the harsh comments you’d heard.

his expression becomes incredibly soft, despite the crowd surrounding the two you trying to pry, “you sure? i don’t mind..” he frowns, “i’ll come back with you, I don’t want you on your own if you feel that shitty,” already looking past you trying to catch someone’s eye to tell them about the change in plans.

“no!” you push, rather quickly, “please don’t let me be the reason you miss this.. i promise i’ll be fine,” pulling away from his grasp, rushing out of the building with absolutely no plan to get back.

eddie strides along behind, grabbing onto your arm, forcing you to stop and face him, “hey.. stop, i’ll get rob to drive you,” guiding you through the see of people and out into the fresh air at long, long last.

it’s like you can finally breathe again. the stifling heat of a hundred bodies wasn’t helping your anxieties, relief washing over your body the second the november breeze hits your flushed face.

he leans into the same car you arrived in, muttering something to who you assume is rob, motioning for you to come over. you oblige, standing at his side as he repeats what’s happening to you though none of the words compute.

“i won’t be long, okay? a couple hours max and then i’ll be back,” pulling you in for an unreciprocated hug.

he bundles you in to the back of the car, nodding to rob to start the journey.

you’re thankful the conversation is non-existent, leaning your forehead against the window, drawing lines into the condensation on the glass.

you want to go home.

and not eddie’s house.. home.

three days had been more than enough for you to decide this life wasn’t for you.

wiping spaghetti off of ella’s smiley face was. gossiping with steve about people you went to high school with was. los angeles certainly wasn’t.

eddie stumbles into the bedroom some hours later, obviously tipsy with a vague stench of booze and people clinging onto his clothes. the smell turns your stomach, peering over your shoulder to see him sliding his suit jacket off, trying to be quiet but failing miserably.

"whoops sorry.. did i wake you?" he asks, slightly slurring his words.

"no, i wasn't asleep," you shift, turning to face him, preparing to break the news.

he slides into the gargantuan bed, running a hand over his face as he comfies himself, "you all okay now?" extending his hand to rest on your waist, smoothing his fingers over the thick duvet.

you exhale, peering up at him through the dimly lit room, "i think i'm gonna go home tomorrow," you’d stewed on it all night and decided it was what’s best.

“what?” his hand stops, sitting up to see you better.

“i’m going back to hawkins tomorrow.”

“why?” he exclaims, unable to comprehend why tonight had gone from a great night to you rushing off home.

“because i miss ella,” you’d umm’d and ahh’d about telling him what had gone down in the bathroom, ultimately deciding not to. he’d only reiterate some bullshit about it not being true and you shouldn’t worry, it wasn’t worth the effort.

“it’s three more days babe.. wha- i don’t understand, where’s this come from?” he’s breathing heavily, focussing on sobering up you suppose.

you sigh again, hesitant to tell him that his friends were assholes and had made you feel like shit. “i just.. i guess i don’t fit in here,” shrugging it off, minimising the niggling thoughts of insecurity that had planted themselves into your brain.

“what are you talking about?” eddie frowns, genuinely perplexed. “did something happen? what are you not telling me about?”

you shake your head, struggling to find the right words, “there was just..” trailing off into the void, “someone said something to me and i’m-,” biting down into your bottom lip, decidedly letting it all out, “i don’t want this life eddie, i never asked for this.. for people to try and pick my life apart! that wasn’t part of the deal!” becoming increasingly frustrated with your boyfriend.

how could he not get it?

“woah.. who said something? i can fix that,” his eyebrows knit together, you’re not sure if he’s angry or just confused. “if you don’t tell me, i can’t do anything.”

“what are you gonna do?” nostrils flaring at his inability to just understand, “what’s said was said.. and i want to go home eddie, that’s the end of it,” running a hand through your hair, still stiff with hairspray and whatever other gunk the stylist had shoved into it.

“jesus christ,” he huffs, sick of the conversation, of trying to get you to stay. “fine. i’ll get someone to change your flight in the morning, can you wait that long?” his snarky voice making an appearance. you hadn’t missed that.

“thank you,” you whisper, unable to get any louder for fear of the lump in your throat.

instead you turn over, squeezing your eyes shut, refusing to let the tears brim over. eddie wouldn’t have understood even if you could tell him, ella wasn’t his kid, those words wouldn’t hurt the same. sure, he’d be pissed and he’d more than likely get her fired but what use was that now?

she’d still uttered the words. still forced her poison into your brain, she’d already got what she wanted.

eddie barely musters up two sentences to you in the morning, speaking in hushed tones to the muffled voice on the other side of the phone.

everything’s fucked and it’s your fault. he knows it too.

“flight’s in four hours.. rob’ll take you to the airport at twelve,” he huffs, hanging the phone back on the wall with enough force to make the plastic rattle.

“thank you,” you call after him, watching as he disappears down the long hall. he had just trampled on your already throbbing heart, stomping on the organ as if it didn’t matter.

when rob arrives, eddie’s in a more optimistic mood, wheeling your suitcase out of his room with a sullen expression, attempting to sway your mind one last time. “i can always cancel this flight..” opening the large door for you, “you can stay if you want to.”

“eddie..”

and with that, he knows it’s not going to work. blinking rapidly, a deep sigh coming from his chest, “right, got it.”

his hand slams the car door shut, still lingering on the metal as you sit inside. you felt like a petulant child, being sent away because you dared to disobey the rules. it’s all so stupid.

and deep down, eddie knows that ultimately, this is all his fault. he’s the one that skipped town eight years ago, left you without so much as a note to explain himself. as he watches the car roll down the drive, he lets himself wonder what life would’ve been like if he didn’t leave, if you’d even still be together or if this had to happen to bring you two back together. the universe was cruel like that.

the airport is bustling, families dithering around trying to find their flights and busy men dashing from one place to the other.

there’s only one thing you need and that’s the bathroom. shoving yourself and your things into a cramped cubicle to do what you needed to do.

and maybe you were being silly, perhaps the stress of last night had got to your head and now you were jumping to crazy conclusions.

but you’d been here before. known the signs, the little things that most people would probably just brush off. so you’d made rob pull into a gas station on your way to the airport and bought a two pack of the cheapest tests you could find.

five minutes feel like five hours. refusing to even peek at the shitty piece of plastic until the time was up.

your heart is thudding, blood pumping around your ears so loudly that you’re sure the lady in the stall next to you could hear it.

hands shaking as you turn the test, two thin blue lines reveal themselves on the tiny screen.

the test clatters to the floor, your mouth falling open as your eyes fog. it wasn’t like you didn’t know, you just didn’t know.

and now you do, everything feels fragile. someone’s cough rings in your ears, the sterile bathroom felt a thousand times smaller than it did five minutes ago.

eddie always said he didn’t want kids.

her voice echoes around your head, just as snarky as it were the first time you heard it. you feel sick. the acidic liquid rises quick, forcing you to spin and stick your head into the porcelain bowl.

emptying your stomach until your throat stings, retching and coughing, trying not to start sobbing.

eddie always said he didn’t want kids.

you can’t tell him, not yet anyway.

fuck.

a thousand thoughts flood your mind. were you even still together? he was on this press tour for weeks now. you can’t tell him over the phone. maybe you had broken up and you wouldn’t ever have to let him now. he would just have an illegitimate child in his hometown that he’d never know about.

nothing felt right. the high you’d been riding from the first two days with him had quite violently come crashing back to earth.

the only thing you want to do is tell steve.

he probably wouldn’t know what to do nor would he be very much help, you just needed to know that everything was going to be okay.

it’s the first thing you say as you slide into steve’s bmw, blurting out the news like it wasn’t potentially life changing.

as expected, his jaw drops, blabbering about babies at a hundred miles an hour. excited and amazed all at the same time.

“- i haven’t told him yet,” you manage to spit out in the middle of his nonsensical ranting.

“what?”

“i didn’t even know until i got to the airport,” you sniff, staring at the drops of rain on his windscreen rather than his eyes. “he’s on this press tour for weeks now.. i can’t tell him over the phone.”

“well shit,” steve’s shoulder slump, empathising with your less than ideal situation, “you have to,” he blinks, focusing on the road ahead.

“steve.. i don’t think you understand,” swallowing the air, unsure if the car was the best place to tell him about your little argument. “shit happened, it’s not.. it’s not that easy.”

he frowns, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as he drives, “well,” voice louder than expected, “we’ll think of something, trust me.”

your body relaxes for the first time in hours. if no one else had you, you know steve did.

there are paps fucking everywhere, littering the sidewalk as steve pulls into your drive, the bright lights already blinding you.

“what the fuck?” steve screeches, turning to face you in the driver's seat. They aren’t dumb, they know that if they step on your property, you are well within your rights to escort them off. so they hang back, inching towards the car but staying far enough away to not allow you to get them off.

“i don’t know.. i don’t know,” shaking your head, you were baffled how they had even found out you were home. you’d known they were scummy but christ, not this scummy.

“just get inside and I’ll bring your stuff in,” steve nods reassuringly, stepping out of the car ready to punch whoever got in his way.

you exhale, preparing for the onslaught of questions and pictures. the key poised in your hand to get you inside as quickly as humanly possible. word must have got out that your trip had ended abruptly, that or someone had seen you sulking around the airport like the sad sack you were.

your feet stumble along the asphalt, holding your hand to your face as to guard your eyes from the flashes. hundreds of questions echo in your ears, what happened between you and eddie munson? have you broken up? did he cheat again?

it’s god awful. gritty voices screaming across the lawn at you. steve has your suitcase rolling behind him, jaw clenched as he guides you to the door.

“you’re harassing a pregnant woman you fucking scumbags! go fuck yourselves!” he unleashes over his shoulder, flapping his arms about.

your mouth falls open, pulling him through the door and into your hall. the one thing you had not wanted him to let slip and he had just blurted it out to the crowd of hungry vultures.

it’d be the first thing on the front page tomorrow and yet you still hadn’t told eddie. at least now you didn’t have to.

he knows he wasn’t supposed to say it too, hand slapped across his mouth, inundated with shock and regret. “i’m so sorry, i’m so fucking sorry,” he rushes, eyes like saucers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, “i’m an idiot.. fuck! i’m sorry,” you cheek smushed against his chest.

the familiar feeling opens the floodgates, tears stream down your cheeks, wetting his t-shirt as your shoulders shake. wailing hysterically into his beating chest. he wasn’t quite expecting this, more so a few hours of the silent treatment.

“oh no.. i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to,” steve whispers into the air, his chin coming to rest atop of your head, squeezing your fragile frame in his arms.

“it’s not-,” rudely interrupted by a rogue hiccup, “shit.. it’s not you-,” hiccup, “oh my god,” you exclaim, tears turning into laughter at an unprecedented rate.

steve loosens his grip, confused as all hell at the mess you’d become against him. “jesus christ, are you okay?” holding your shoulders at arms length to examine the snotty, hiccupy mess in front of him.

“no,” you laugh, completely hysterical.

he guides you to the couch, making your movements for you, plonking down on the cushions in a flurry of emotion.

there you tell him everything. the party, the bitch with the sharp jawline in the bathroom and her nasty words, the aftermath and then all about your panic attack in a tiny lax bathroom.

it’s cathartic, knowing he won’t judge or diminish the way you feel. steve just listens, his hand rubbing small strokes on your knee every time you got to a juicy part.

how the hell were you ever going to tell eddie now?

there’s a knock at your door, mindlessly going to answer it without thinking much of the mad crowd of people that were out there just a few days ago. steve had gratefully been staying with you, helping with ella while also trying to hatch a plan to tell eddie without ruining everything.

it only occurs to you that it very well could be another nosy reporter as the door is already unlocked and slightly ajar.

you peep around the tiny crack, prepared to be bombarded with a bunch of questions and bright lights.

there’s none of that.

only the pitying image of one eddie munson stood on your doorstep with his shoulders slumped, black ray-ban’s hanging from his shirt and an inconceivable look upon his face.

“what the fuck?” he utters, barely audible. he looks exhausted, dark rings around his eyes with the body language to match. his hair in dark matter tangles hung around his face.

your mouth opens but the words fail to materialise, utterly speechless. there’s nothing you could possibly say now that would lessen the blow. and bless his soul, steve had fucked it.

no.

you had fucked it by running off back home without telling him the seemingly very important news.

“were you ever gonna tell me?” eyebrows screwed together, eyes glossy with what looked like tears.

“i.. i- yes, i was.. i didn’t.. i didn’t know,” pleading with him with your eyes, hoping they could tell him exactly what your words couldn’t. your lip trembles, as much as this had played on your mind since steve had let slip, the two of you still hadn’t come up with an acceptable explanation.

deep down you know really why you still hadn’t called him. you were scared, terrified even, that he’d laugh at you. tell you to fuck off, or get rid of it and to never contact him again. that wouldn’t surprise anyone, he was at the top of his career and definitely wouldn’t want to jack that in for his boring high school ex-girlfriend.

that’s what you’d told yourself anyway.

“when? when it was born?” his words are sharp, reaffirming every single fear you had conjured up in your brain.

you inhale sharply, the lump making it up and out of your throat before you had the chance to swallow it down. tears spill down your warm cheeks, the most ghastly cry coming from your mouth.

you must look utterly pathetic as eddie’s face softens almost immediately, springing from your doorstep and over the threshold to caress your cheek, mopping the tears with his thumb. “sorry.. i’m sorry fuck- i just wish you’d told me,” leaning forward to keep his eyes solidly on yours, any anger had dissipated from his face.

“i was scared, i’m sorry.. I didn’t know what to do,” burying your face into his shoulder, already wetting the shirt with your tears. shoulders shaking as you sob. “i swear.. i didn’t know until i got to the airport, i really- i just needed a few days..” howling into his steady shoulder.

he walks the both of you inside into your hallway, pushing the door shut before his other hand tangled into your hair, soothing out the wild strands. “i know.. it’s okay,” reassuring you even though you really didn’t deserve it.

“and that lady.. i don’t know, she got into my head,” sniffling, appreciating the familiarity of his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes he always seemed to have.

his body stiffens, pulling your body from the safety of his, “what lady? is this about the party? fuck sake man, no one would tell me anything,” he’s serious now, frustration overcoming his features once more, although this time they weren’t directed towards you.

you sigh, using your palm to wipe your stinging cheeks, “it doesn’t matter.. and it’s fine, you know? i get it.. why someone like you wouldn’t want kids. i’ve come to terms with it,” nodding through your lines, despite the fact that you couldn’t have believed them less.

“what? what the hell are you talking about?” flabbergasted that you’d even suggest that.

your face falls, once stoic and ready to face being a single mom again. “that lady.. she said..” shaking your head, “you didn’t want kids,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill over again.

“oh my god,” it clicks for him, and you wish it would for you too. “that’s.. fuck- i did say that but it was a long time ago now,” his fingers dig into your arms, ensuring that he really hammers his point home, “of course i do.. shit sweetheart, of course i do,” the flecks of caramel in his eyes shine through ten-fold when he’s staring at you, glossed over with the remnants of his tears.

your mouth opens, moving though nothing comes out, hopeless as the words fail to form.

“you’re an idiot,” eddie laughs lovingly, pulling you back towards him, encasing your face in his rough palms, the cold of his rings soothes your tear laden cheeks. “why didn’t you tell me? or just ask me?”

you giggle a bit, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know.. i didn’t think,” nothing made sense and yet, you felt better than you had in weeks.

eddie’s here, in front of you, happy, grinning from ear to ear as he remembers why he’s even stood in your dark corridor, “baby.. we’re having a baby,” squishing your cheeks between his hands.

his joy is palpable, brushing off on you despite your leaking eyes. he still looks at you like that, even though you’d scarped off, even after you had let the world know you were pregnant before him. it was like the stars shon in your eyes, as if the very key to living was buried somewhere within your soul and he just had to be the first to grasp it.

your heart is bursting, a weeks worth of sleepless nights and fretting over destroying your relationship had come to this. to holding each other in the dim light, both terrified for what was to come.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

Text

Reunited Again Aren't We?

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Lololol I felt bad I left you guys on a cliffhanger in "Troubles Unforeseen" so here's Vox's POV to the whole thing. Bro already has minor panic episodes when you go inactive so let's see how he deals with the fact you're just entirely gone. Oh and this chapter will feature a bit of the iconic radio demon because trolling Vox will never be unfunny to me HAHAHAHA.

A/N: This interlude's gonna be a wild ride, it's also gonna have some lore dumps because of Lucifer lolol. Hence it is fucking LONG- Btw please send me ideas for Vox and Reader now that they've reunited in death. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, doesn't really matter hahaha, I'm still going for the slowburn btw so please keep that in mind XD ANYWAYS- I hope you guys enjoy this interlude and as always, happy reading!

There was something wrong.

Like, really really wrong.

At least to a certain technology overlord.

Vox just couldn't get rid of the sick feeling he had in his gut.

It had been just a few hours after you said you'd leave for the party.

Knowing that, he tried to just distract himself with his work and hoping the feeling would go away.

Only to find himself counting minutes as nothing seemed to change.

Against his better judgement, he found himself shooting you a quick message.

He was just checking in on you, no harm no foul right?

"Hey doll, how's the party?"

He stared at the phone for a bit, wishing you'd reply and quickly put his paranoia and nerves to rest.

Instead, Vox was quickly reminded that he had a broadcast in a few minutes by his secretary.

Fuck.

He just really couldn't shake that ominous feeling.

Despite that, he put on a charming smile and just went about his business.

Unfortunately, he'd lost track of time after getting swarmed up by work.

So it was only hours later that Vox was able to check back in on you.

And to his dismay, there was still nothing from your end.

You didn't even see his message.

He tries to convince himself that he's just being paranoid.

That there really wasn't anything wrong.

But as he was staring at the screens connected to your gadgets hoping for even just the slightest activity-

The one that showed your phone suddenly fizzled out into static and abhorrently loud white noise.

He recoiled from the loud noise before the panic finally settled in.

Vox had known you for almost two years-

And this hadn't happened once.

The screen where your phone's interface had once been just went back to being one of his typical monitors.

Displaying statistics, graphs, surveillance and whatnot.

The overlord quickly checked if he could still interact with your laptop and tablet and breathed a sigh of relief when he could.

Especially when he could still control that little desktop version he made in his likeness for you.

So, maybe things didn't entirely go to shit.

But still-

What fucking happened?!

He kinda goes off the walls blowing up your notifications or trying to get your attention through the devices he was still tied to.

Which only makes his anxiety worse when there's still no response from you at all.

At this point, it's been a few hours since you've completed dropped off the radar and Vox was just not having a great time.

Were you still at the party or something???

That was of course until a news article appeared as a notification on your laptop.

Vox knew he shouldn't have cared about it much, it was probably just another one of those internet clickbait things anyway.

Especially with the headline.

"Students Injured by Drunk Driver, One Dead"

Who wouldn't think that was an exaggerated story?

But something in the back of his mind demanded that he check it.

It was probably the paranoia filling up with just all the worst possible scenarios.

The overlord just shook his head, he'll check it just to prove to himself you weren't part of it.

Just anything that could tell him that you were okay.

But the second he opened the article to read through it-

Vox immediately felt his stomach drop.

He could immediately identify the bloodied individuals in the headline picture.

It was your group of friends that had gotten caught in that accident.

And it was you who'd gotten killed.

Seeing you bloodied and battered in the outfit you so proudly showed him mere hours ago made him feel downright horrid.

It was like he couldn't even breathe.

No-

No way!

It couldn't be, it was just someone that looked like you!

It had to be!

Was what the overlord tried to tell himself.

But when he scrolled down the page and saw your name written in the article as the one unfortunate death-

Vox knew for certain that he didn't see wrong.

The sick feeling he'd been getting was his instincts giving him a warning.

A warning he didn't heed.

And it costed you.

He sat there in his chair for a minute trying to process it all, especially when the overwhelming guilt finally hit.

Vox wasn't ever one to feel that way, especially in his ruthless line of work.

Not to mention how he generally is a cutthroat businessman who would do anything to get what he wanted.

But when it came to you, he felt immense regret for not having better painted his worry.

That he didn't tell you something felt really off.

It was a new kind of weight at the moment, especially when he was still shell shocked from the blitzkrieg of information.

And even if you still chose to go to the party-

He still could have warned you.

And that was a fact he couldn't let go.

Holding his screen in his hands, Vox just sat there trying to calm himself down.

He definitely couldn't just go back to work like this.

This was bad.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this kind of overwhelming anxiety.

Was that it?

Would he ever see you again?

Or had he lost you for good?

The overlord was about to kind of just let his emotions run it's course until another realization hit him.

It only popped up in his mind when he saw some random surveillance footage of the city on another one of his monitors.

If you were dead-

There was a chance you could be down here.

He highly doubted it given your nature-

But there was still a chance.

He hadn't lost you yet.

So that was how Vox found himself rapidly traveling through wires and cameras all over pentagram city just holding onto a thread of hope that you would be around somewhere.

Velvette had given him an odd look when he just bolted of the Vee tower like his own ass was on fire but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The priority was you.

As he had unfortunately realized over time.

Zapping himself around through some cables, and cameras wasn't hard.

Tiring as he continued to do it but moving around like a shock of electricity was nothing new to the overlord of technology.

The problem now being that Vox had absolutely no idea where to even begin looking.

Pentagram city was huge, there was his tech and products in nearly every corner.

Aside from Alastor's stupid hotel-

And maybe cannibal town-

So it wasn't that difficult for him to get places.

But where would he even start?

It was unlike him to do something in such a sporadic manner.

Appearing here, appearing there-

Just to check, just to see.

He'd completely lost his cool in his panic and tried to picture what you'd look like as a sinner.

If there's one thing Vox had grown to recognize and love about you, it was your bright eyes.

That gaze that always looked at him with either cheer or mischief.

He was certain that wouldn't have changed even if you were launched into heaven or hell.

Problem was that didn't narrow his options at all.

How was he supposed to know how your other physical features would translate once you were down here?

Hell, he had a TV for a head!

The overlord zapped himself out of a nearby CCTV camera with a huff.

He couldn't keep traveling like that unless he wanted to exhaust himself before he'd even searched half of the pride ring.

So he straightened out his bow and brushed off his suit before just walking down the sidewalk and subtly searching that way.

He wasn't phased when some sinners took pictures of him, nor did he have the capacity to even care.

As long as they didn't get in his way, he left them be.

So imagine his surprise at the sense of familiarity he got passing by someone staring at the display TV screens on one of his many stores.

He swears he's never seen the person before, but there was something about their vibe that just hit like a sense of Deja vu.

Looking over at the sinner that seemed to even be amused at one of his broadcast reruns-

He got a good look of your face.

Your gaze really didn't change.

"Huh, so this is what he does down here. Goofy ass TV-"

And that was your voice.

He wouldn't mistake that anywhere.

"(Y/N)?"

You screamed in shock before you turned your equally surprised gaze to him.

When you met his eyes, Vox knew for sure it was you.

"Vox!!!"

You dropped the bag you were holding and immediately tackled him in a hug.

The overlord opened his arms instinctively to catch you, but he was caught off guard by your sudden movement that he ended up falling backwards and landing on his ass with you in his hold.

He couldn't really say anything when you were just rambling on and on into his chest about who knows what.

Vox couldn't even keep track of what you said.

He was just too relieved to still have you around.

It took a brief moment for him to tighten his hug on you, fearing that if he let go you would disappear.

The both of you stayed like that for a good while, until a certain princess Morningstar and her girlfriend found the two of you.

"(Y/N)???"

"(Y/N) get away from him!"

Vox could only compare how fast you whipped your head around to the times he'd caught you doing something silly.

Subconsciously his hold tightened on you as Vaggie approached, how in Lucifer's name did they even know you were here?

"No! I'd been looking for Vox ever since I ended up down here! I know he's not going to hurt me!"

He was more surprised at how quick you were to defend him, especially since-

Wait-

You'd been looking for him ever since you ended up in hell?

He couldn't catch the rest of the conversation you had with Vaggie and Charlie as he was too busy buffering.

By the time he'd finally been able to pay attention again, you were helping him stand back up with a bashful smile.

And that was when his worry finally reared it's ugly head.

"Wh- How the fuck are you even down here?! I told you to be careful and you'd gotten yourself killed?!"

"As if that's my fucking fault! How was I supposed to know I was gonna die that night?!"

The both of you go back and forth for a little while and you slowly calmed Vox down from his emotional rollercoaster.

He only noticed he was shaking slightly when you grabbed his hand and smiled at him.

A smile Vox was scared he'd never even see again.

He felt a little funny with your hand in his, not to mention just how small your palms were against his own.

"I'm okay now, see? You're such a worry wart."

"I could've lost you, why wouldn't I be?"

You just flick his screen with your free hand in response, but Vox didn't miss the slight red that dusted your cheeks accompanying your pout.

It was only then that he was able to get a good look at you.

He wanted to both laugh and scream at the fact you seemed to have taken traits of a doe, ears and all.

It was like Alastor just had to give him a middle finger no matter what he did.

He also noticed your outfit was the same as the one you had died in, which was probably a hint that you hadn't been down here for long.

Plus, you were just...

Short.

Well, you only stood up to his chest so you just seemed small in comparison to him.

A soft cough brought his attention away from you.

Ah.

Right.

"Hey there Mr. Vox! I see you're well acquainted with (Y/N)!"

Vox was about to just shrug off Charlie's greeting and leave with you when he noticed your stern gaze.

Oh fine, he'll play nice.

"You can just call me Vox, princess. No need for the formalities. It's a pleasure meeting you!"

He returned, extending his free hand to shake with his signature grin propped up on his screen.

Charlie just smiled and shook his hand, introducing herself and Vaggie.

Well, he already knew who they were but he played along.

"Oh just call me Charlie and this is Vaggie, we were actually just shopping with (Y/N) before you appeared?"

Huh?

Vox raised an eyebrow at you but you just nonchalantly pointed to the dropped groceries nearby the two of you just sitting on the sidewalk.

So that was what you were holding before you tackled him.

Before he could respond to Charlie however, you beat him to it.

"Saaaaaay why don't you go back to the hotel with us?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean I'd reckon it's not like you have anything else to do if you're out here."

Vox didn't really know how he was supposed to react first.

One, he was done with the day's work so you had him kind of cornered.

It wasn't like he could say no to you anyway-

And two, the hotel-

If Charlie and Vaggie were here with you then he could assume what hotel you were talking about.

And he was absolutely livid because he knew fucking Alastor was there.

Alastor.

And you were staying there?!

Though it seems like you heard his thoughts and poked his screen to snap him out of it.

"Oh and don't worry about Alastor, I've been a pain in his side ever since I came to the hotel. He's just really easy to piss off, kind of like you actually- and it's entertaining to watch."

Vox just gave you an annoyed glare from the comparison to which you shrugged.

Though when he weighed his options, maybe it was for the best that you stayed at the hotel despite his rival being there.

It was probably the safest space in hell at the moment-

Especially with how they were able to drive away the exorcists.

That and...

He wasn't so sure about having you in the same space as Valentino.

The pimp already blew up at him when you were just on his phone-

How much more if you guys were in the same room?

He broke from that train of thought though when you just suddenly started messing with his bow tie.

Tugging and poking, Vox couldn't help but find your behaviors as puzzling as it was cute.

He gaze softened slightly at you before he chuckled.

"Just what do you think you're doing doll?"

"Messing with your tie, what else?"

"Hmm, I can see that. Mind telling me why?"

"Cuz I can? Besides- do you wear this outfit all the time?"

"Only when I'm working, aren't you curious."

"Eh, it's all I've seen you wear so I figured I'd ask. Besides, this is the first time we've physically met."

Vox missed the weird glance Charlie and Vaggie gave the both of you.

Not that he would've noticed anyway when you were busy taking up all his attention.

Eventually, you were able to talk the tech overlord into walking you back to the hotel.

He felt a little weird when you finally let go of his hand to pick up the groceries you'd dropped but he wasn't sure why.

Well, more like you were dragging him along.

Charlie and Vaggie were talking excitedly in the front as he just strolled alongside you.

He wasn't really paying attention to them.

"I don't actually know much about what happened in the accident, just that it was a car crash. Speaking of- how did you know I died?"

"A news article popped up on your computer, I almost thought it was clickbait at first."

"Huh, well at least I ended up on the news!"

You both fell seamlessly into conversation all the way on your walk.

And despite you just behaving the same Vox was familiar with, seeing your reactions in person was a completely different experience.

Your energy was almost contagious even.

Vox just intended to drop you off at the hotel and return to his tower-

But you being you, decided to drag him inside despite his protests.

Charlie and Vaggie went ahead inside with the groceries while you once again grabbed Vox's hand to take him inside.

The overlord could already feel all eyes on him the second he stepped through the doors.

Talk about awkward.

"Greetings old pal! What brings you around here?"

Vox visibly cringed when he heard Alastor, forcing his trademark smile onto his face before looking at the deer.

Everyone already seemed to be taking cover for the inevitable fight that was going to happen between the two overlords when-

"Cut the shit Alastor, I don't need you antagonizing Vox when I want to chill out with him."

Vox didn't even have room to reply when your voice immediately cut through the tension like a knife through butter.

Even he looked at you with slightly widened eyes, did you just not fear Alastor at all?

In hindsight, Vox realized you didn't seem to fear him at all when you guys met so was this really unexpected?

The radio demon only narrowed his eyes at you in annoyance, static starting to surround him and you simply crossed your arms.

"If this is meant to be scary, I suggest trying something else. Cuz, you're honestly kinda just being creepy."

Alastor tilted his head before suddenly laughing off your words, your own deer ears pinning back in irritation.

"Why I was just trying to say hello my dear! No need to get so hostile!"

"Don't call me that. It's either my name or nothing ya weirdo."

That piqued Vox's interest, you never had any issues with his petnames-

And yet it seems like you had every bone to pick with his rival.

Was that because of him???

He bit back a laugh and just continued to spectate your exchange.

"If you do insist (Y/N), but I will say you have a terrible taste in companions."

You just flipped Alastor the bird and Vox raised an eyebrow at you.

He didn't even have to say a word to the deer before he disappeared back into the shadows.

"So what was that about who antagonizing who?"

"So much as say another word about this exchange I'm going to punch your screen in Vox."

"That's if you can reach it dollface."

And just like that, you both fell back into your usual banter.

The others would've thought you and Vox were arguing if it weren't for the seemingly genuine grins on both your faces.

There wasn't an air of hostility around you and Vox like when you confronted Alastor.

It was friendly, which was... weird to say the least.

All the more for the current residents of the hotel.

You were a new arrival, so the fact you were so buddy-buddy with one media overlord while having every bone to pick with the other was a little confusing.

Not to mention that Vox was kind of just... there.

Like he wasn't trying to strike up a deal, or even do anything to the hotel.

Was he there just for you???

That fact made them more concerned about your backstory than anything.

When a lull in the conversation between you and Vox finally hit, Angel spoke up.

"Say uh, toots. How'd you end up down here?"

You didn't seem to mind the nickname this time, instead simply shrugging nonchalantly.

Vox was sure now you just said you had problems with it because it was Alastor.

"That's actually a good question. I've got no idea."

"Seriously? Then how do you explain the fact you're friends with like- hell's biggest media overlord?!"

"Oh that? I met Vox when I was alive. No biggie though."

Vox just snickered from everyone's dumbfounded expressions.

Of course he could leave it to you to completely misunderstand just how important the title of "overlord" is.

"I think I might be able to help figure out why you're down here (Y/N)."

It almost entirely caught Vox off guard when Lucifer of all people suddenly made his presence known.

Not to mention the guy was just really short.

Like- wow.

You'd think with all the paintings and tales he'd be a bit more intimidating too but nope.

Vox just looked over at you next to him while you just gratefully gave Lucifer a hug and accepted his offer.

Seems like he wasn't wrong when he mentioned that you could easily make friends anywhere in the past.

The overlord nodded his head slightly to acknowledge the king of hell but was more focused on what he was going to do to help.

It wasn't like they could just watch your entire life on rewind-

Or could they?

Vox just watches as Lucifer uses his magic to form this... golden orb thing in front of everyone.

So color him shocked when it suddenly starts playing some of your memories.

From when you met him because of the ouija board incident-

Up until the point you died.

Was he the reason for your damnation???

Was that why the orb showed that??

"So that's how you guys know each other- don't see anything that could've caused you to be down here though. Let's go farther back."

What-

Now the overlord was completely stumped.

Just what.

Okay, maybe he jumped to conclusions too soon.

Apparently, from skimming through your memories- it seems like the main reason why you were down here with the rest of them-

Was because you stole a candy bar when you were like- five.

"And you were worried about not meeting me."

"I mean, how was I supposed to know I was damned since I was FIVE?! What the hell is this bullshit?!"

Vox could only laugh at you throwing a hissy fit, everyone else around you still being a little confused and dumbfounded that you were in hell for such a small and kind of idiotic reason.

"It's not funny Vox! I can't believe I'm stuck down here because of a fucking candy bar!"

"I thought you didn't mind being down here?"

"Oh trust me I don't, I'm good with wherever you are. But I could've at least gone down for a cooler reason! Fucking hell!"

He couldn't help but smile fondly as you continued to rant.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this, but he always found it cute anyway.

Screens between you both or not.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #get off my screen series

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hedgehog-moss · 11 months

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Writers who use imitative harmony + the movement of their language to evoke meaning are so great to re-read once you’ve learnt this language, if you’ve read them in translation before, it feels like the best reward. I’m reading Annie Proulx in the original for the first time, and so much of her writing style was just not salvageable by French translators (< my condolences), because she intertwines sound with meaning so often, at least in Close Range, and French just doesn’t sound the same! so by translating the meaning you’ll sacrifice a lot of the style... It reminds me of a haunted house book in French that also made me think “haha RIP translators” because it made great use of sound—a lot of “u / eu / ou” to create a sort of sinister howling effect in some sentences, and one sentence about a closed door used “i” and “rr” sounds to give an ominous “creaking open” sensation without actually opening the door in the text...

This kind of thing always makes me reflect despairingly on how many authors I’ll never get to appreciate fully as I can’t read them in the original, but I’m glad to re-discover Annie Proulx at any rate! I mean compare the sound of a phrase like “a hundred dirt road shortcuts” to the French “des centaines de raccourcis, des routes de terre”... First of all the English phrase sounds clippety-cloppy, it sounds like hooves on a dirt road in a way that’s very hard to preserve in a language without syllable stress, but also the French language demands that you turn it into ‘a hundred of shortcurts of roads of dirt’, so it’s best to dilute it into two phrases, and you just lose the clippedness. It sounds less tight, more leisurely.

Same for the phrase “the tawny plain still grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts” vs. “la plaine fauve encore marquée des ornières laissées par les chariots des pèlerins.” That’s a 54% expansion ratio and once again you turn the tight clippedness of ‘grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts’ into ‘grooved with the ruts left by the wagons of the pilgrims.’ You just can’t avoid it, French words have to hold hands in a long procession rather than being stacked like pancakes on top of one another. And sometimes it makes for lovely stylistic effects too (*), but it doesn’t fit the style of a text like this one, which uses rhythm and sound in a very un-French way—rhythmicality in French tends to rely on long flowy phrasings rather than the potholed ruggedness this story demands. (I saw a NY Times article describe it as Annie Proulx “mining the ore of language out of a gritty Wyoming rockscape”)

The rhythm of this whole bit is so neat, you can snap your fingers along with it: “hard orange dawn, the world smoking, snaking dust devils on bare dirt, heat boiling out of the sun until the paint on the truck hood curled, ragged webs of dry rain that never hit the ground, through small-town traffic and stock on the road, band of horses in morning fog...”

The French version is not finger-snapping material but you can tell the translator did her very best to preserve the author’s intention by creating interesting rhythms in French as well. For “hard orange dawn” she could have kept close to the original with, say, “la dureté orange de l’aube” but instead she chose to turn ‘hard’ into a four-syllable adjective (éblouissante / blinding) to end up with a noticeable rhythm—“les aubes orange, éblouissantes,” one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four (and she made ‘dawn’ plural for the same reason.) She wasn’t able to preserve the g/r alliteration of “GRooved with pilGRim waGon Ruts” (although her translated phrase also has a lot of R’s) but she did preserve the ‘sss’ alliteration of “Smoking Snaking duSt” (“pouSSière Serpentant Sur le Sol”). Even with languages as close as French and English, for every stylistic effect you can save you have to sacrifice a few, or replace them with opposite effects which align better with your language’s notions of literary style (like with the orange dawn bit, doubling the length of a tight phrase so it can sound rhythmical).

You can tell all throughout the book that a lot of thought and care went into respecting Annie Proulx’s writing choices and you still end up with sentences that sound and move so differently. You get to see the limit of translation when authors fully lean on their language’s syntax and melody to help convey meaning, like poets do!

(*) Re: English stacking words and French linking them—this reminds me of an essay I read by an English translator of Proust who despaired of this difference in the opposite direction—saying some long, descriptive phrases in Proust with articles & prepositions linking words, and commas linking phrases with regularity, read like telling the beads of a rosary. And the sensation (or a lot of it) had to be sacrificed because English just does not use as many linking words as French, information is conveyed in a more economical way, so a lot of these sentences with a hypnotic rhythm like “the A, of the B, of the C, whereby the D, of the E, on an F” were often not achievable with English syntax or created redundancy (e.g. having to use ‘that’ or ‘which’ 5 times when French used different tool words). But he said he did try to form sentences that had this continuity, and meditative quality.

I don’t have a conclusion to this post other than to say something precious will be lost if human translation is replaced by AI translation, because literary translation involves creativity and ambiguity and aesthetic considerations and a dimension of instinctual feeling for your own language and the original style, and I don’t think any amount of data and processing power and artificial neural networks will yield the flavour of literary quality that emerges from human sensibility and care, from someone reading a sentence and thinking “this feels like hooves clippety-clopping down a dirt road” or “this feels like rolling the beads of a rosary” and starting from there...

#language tag #not sure if imitative harmony has the same meaning as harmonie imitative now that i think about it #in french i was taught that it’s a broader more ‘diluted’ stylistic device than onomatopoeia #as in writing 'bzzz' about an insect flying is onomatopoeia #writing a sentence about an insect with several 'b' and 'zz' sounds here and there is imitative harmony

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tanuki-kimono · 5 months

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Cw: We are going to talk here about periods, and sex education in the past. Read this note according to your own sensibilities :)

How women dealt with periods during Edo period, article by shunga enthousiast Shungirl who made a paper pad following instructions found in makura bunko 枕文庫 - ie ancient sex books illustrated with erotic ukiyoe.

One of such makura bunko is 渓斎英泉 Keisai Eisen's 閨中紀聞-枕文庫, first published in 1822. It details Chinese remedies recipes for menstrual pains and irregularities, give tips about sex, and information about menstruations and pregnancy. From a modern point of view, some beliefs are outdated, but it was then such a bestseller it went through several reeditions.

Several words were apparently in use during Edo era to designates menstrual period: keisui 経水, gekkei 月経, tsukiyaku 月水, etc.

When girls went throught their first period, their females relatives or nannies would taught them how to deal with them. One method was to use paper as sanitary products (please note people without easy access to paper probably dealt with periods differently).

__________ 御馬 paper pads

Sanitary pads, such as the one recreated above by Shungirl, were then called mima 御馬 (probably as a pun on true "mima" which were then fine horses own by noblemen, or attached to sanctuaries as mounts for gods etc) or simply ouma お馬 ("honorable" horse).

Ouma were made from inexpensive recycled paper called Asakusagami 浅草紙. Sheets were folded 8 times, tied with twisted paper strings (koyori 紙縒), and then wrapped with another layer of folded paper. It was secured once again with paper strings.

Part of the strings could be left long so to tie around the waist, or/and pad was hold into place by wearing fundoshi 褌 loincloth (which would also help prevent leaking on inner tights).

Asakusagami quality was low (it was also used as toilet paper) so paper pads had to be changed often, meaning you had to fold quite a lot of them to go through your period!

Shungirl folded the pad above following instructions found in the book 実娯教絵抄, which provided several other "models":

__________ 詰め紙 paper tampons

Another method for dealing with periods were tampon-like paper bundles which were inserted into the vagina, the 詰め紙 (tsumeshi? I am not sure of the reading).

This method may have first appeared in red-light districts (?). Beside its use for periods, prostitutes also used those tampons as method of contraception (OP has an interesting article on this subject).

By the end of Edo period and into Meiji, paper tampons were widely used even by women who were not prostitutes - despite voices branding this method as unsanitary.

__________ About girls' coming of age rites

Menarche (first period) was an important milestone for girls, and was celebrated as such via specific rites (shochō o iwau 初潮を祝). Those differed a lot from places to places, and also depended on social status.

Celebrations would concern close family, but often spread to wider community who could received for example a festive meal (sekihan 赤飯) for the occasion (some Edo era senryû poems stress how mortifying this publicity could be!).

Interestingly, some traditions were also pretty sweet: in some places, mothers would sew 3 stiches into their daughter's underskirt (koshimaki 腰巻き) as a good luck charm, hoping their periods would last only 3 days <3

Those rites were part of coming of age traditions (seijoshiki 成女式) which marked the start of a young woman adulthood. Another example is the blackening of teeth (ohaguro お歯黒) which usually started around 16-17 years old.

Celebrating menarche publicly was a way of advertising that the girl was no longer a child and would "soon" be a bride. Yet, if menarche often took place around 13-14 years old, in reality it was somehow unusual to have girls married so soon!

Before marriage, especially in non-noble/samurai families, young women often started their sexual life via flings or yobai 夜這い ("night crawling" ie pseudo-secret nighttime encounters) before any wedding actually took place.

#cw: periods #cw: sex mention #japan #japanese history #edo period #edo era #periods #sex education #sex history #sanitary pads #tampons #paper pads #ouma #mima #paper tampons #tsumeshi #coming of age rites #ressources #references

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maryleclerc · 5 months

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𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 — charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which after everything, charles and reader end up back together. become a family!

warning: use google translate, english is not my native language. this is the first ending, which mean reader will end up with charles, i’ll post 2nd ending soon. i do not claim any of these images as my own

i know i know, why’s so peaceful? i wanted if reader end up with carlos than i’ll make it more dramatic! so wait for my ending with carlos!!

please if you wanted to be tag in any of my future work, you can reply or dm me! thank you!! 🤍

read part 01, part 02

deuxmoi

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deuxmoi Our first image of Y/n and Charles today in NYC together. Taken by a fan today!!

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brianng If they are really back together, i’d be real happy to know that my wishes finally came true

ynscharlesleclerc They’ll always be the best couple of my heart

megancharles She’s ruining other people happiness, she’s the reason why Charles broke up with Meg

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc I think today is a suitable day to write this article. Just like the rumors these past few weeks, about Y/n and I, I want to confirm that Y/n and I are back together and we are very happy now. We also prepare together to welcome our little angel. Also thank you for all of your concern

tagged: yourusername

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ynusernamefan I am happy for you

charlessgoddess It’s seems like this is their fate, after so many things had happen to both of them, they still find their ways to get back together without even trying

yourusername

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yourusername Sharing all of my favorite saved in my gallery while enjoying few weeks left in my last sem 🤍

tagged: yoursisterusername

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uhbbjorn_ What’s your favorite part of being pregnant Y/n?

⤷ yourusername The most favorite part of being pregnant is when you can feel the baby’s kicking

jenniej__ Have you had any ideas for the baby name yet?

⤷ yourusername Actually me and Charles both like the name Ceres and Agnes, but haven’t will fit her

charles_leclerc with yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 6,180,044 others

yourusername Ceres Faye Leclerc decided to come on her own schedule 4 weeks early. Born 12/20 at 20:20 👶🏻🧸 and her papa @charles_leclerc was made it in time.

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arthur_leclerc ❤️ my niece

geeherst Congratulations and blessing! This is so incredible

kathykeeth She’s so little, I can’t 🥹

shhanann Her name feel so like goddess

wired

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wired [HIGHLIGHT] Some of the most cutes moment of Autocomplete Interview Couple Edition with Y/n and Charles Leclerc today.

CHARLES: Hi! I’m Charles Leclerc

Y/N: I’m Y/n Y/l/n soon to Y/n Leclerc and today we’re with WIRED Autocomplete Interview

BOTH: Family Edition

Q: Have you ever google yourself?

Y/N: Oh yes I have, only once

CHARLES: I never google myself —

Y/N: Why?

CHARLES: I mean… I don’t know

Y/N: Okay first question, are you ready Charles?

CHARLES: More than ready soon-to-be Mrs. Leclerc

Y/N: [Chuckle] Stop it, first question “Is Y/n Y/l/n single?”— Well guess what, I’m still available

CHARLES: What? No you’re not, you’re mine [Laugh]

Y/N: Okay okay I’m just kidding, so is Y/n single? No, I’m not single and already engage to this gorgeous man sitting next to me

CHARLES: Next up “Is Charles Leclerc nice?”

CHARLES: I don’t know, ask her [pointed at Y/n]

Y/N: Yes he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met

Y/N: “How did Charles and Y/n met?”

CHARLES: Well we met through Y/n mom, like everyone already knows. So it’s was on Christmas Eve and my family just casually having dinner together at this restaurent called and then all of a sudden my mom just point at Y/n whom also sitting with her family and said “Oh my god, Charles ressemble à un ange, va lui parler, Charles” which mean “Charles she look like an angel, go talk to her, Charles” and everything started from there.

Y/N: [Laugh] Yea, I remember that I heard something in French and just right the moment I look up, I saw his face. But there is something I haven’t told you, that when I step into that restaurent I already like really like into you.

CHARLES: Awww I know you do had crush on me baby

CHARLES: Next question is “How many childens do Charles and Y/n have?”

CHARLES: We have a daughter and her name is Ceres Faye Leclerc, she’s my treasure

Y/N: And she’s a spitting image of Charles

Y/N: “How many children do Charles want?”

CHARLES: I’m a family guy you know, I got to say that my ideal is to have 3 kids but —

Y/N: Wow that’s take lots of work to do Charles

CHARLES: But after witnessing what Y/n went through during the birth of Ceres, and all the difficulties that came with it after giving birth, I have reconsidered this. Actually, for me, how many children I want is not as important as whether Y/n wants it or not. After all, the one who gives birth is still Y/n not me, so I always prioritize her choice.

Link in bio for full WIRED Autocomplete Interview with Y/n and Charles Leclerc

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charles_leclerc Thank you WIRED for the best Interview 🙌🙌

yourusername We have so much fun time with WIRED Autocomplete Interview. Thank you WIRED!!🙌

helenaandersson THEY’RE ENGAGE!!!

lulnan One of the best interview WIRED had done so far!!

macharlesitan Never knew Charles could be this sweet

kitt._ I need a man like him in my life 😩

⤷ alexandraandersson Too sad, a man like him on this planet are RARE

( taglist ) @janeholt3 @formulas-bitch @celestialams @aundercover @1655clean @amalialeclerc

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #carlos sainz fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc smau!#charles leclerc one shot

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sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog · 8 months

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I just read the article you posted a while back about TB (heads up- it said the gift article link has lapsed or some such). Did J&J ‘evergreen’ (be allowed to be evil) or was it allowed to become generic?

Relatedly, how do you manage empathy fatigue? I deal with OCD too and it screams at me that I have to care about and do all the things all at once. How do you choose where to put your time and energy?

(Also, when I get the coffee subscription for my husband’s birthday, which version should I get?)

For me empathy fatigue sets in when I careen my attention from this crisis to that one to the next one to the one after that, always feeling overwhelmed by each emerging problem but never having the time or attention to devote myself to one problem or another.

I'll give you an example. In 2014, a horrific ebola epidemic swept through Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. The world paid attention to it. Everyone was talking about it. And then .... it ended. At least in the global imagination. Money dried up. The world moved on to the next crisis.

That's not to say the next crisis wasn't important. It was important. But in Sierra Leone, the ebola crisis wasn't really over even after people stopped contracting ebola. 15% of Sierra Leone's healthcare workers had been killed by ebola, and the already fragile healthcare system plummeted into what one Sierra Leonean physician described to me as "a state of collapse."

And so the crisis remained a crisis even after the world's attention shifted. 1 in 17 women in Sierra Leone were dying in childbirth. Over 10% of kids born died before the age of five. Tuberculosis killed thousands every year despite curative treatment being available.

And this is when Hank and I finally, belatedly realized that responding to crises in the news was not adequate. Instead, we would need to commit the kind of long-term attention and long-term support that long-term crises demand. This means making difficult choices--there is also high maternal and child mortality in countries other than Sierra Leone, but we choose to focus on Sierra Leone because we see an opportunity to make a difference, because the government is serious if limited in its commitment to improving healthcare and educational opportunities, and because we had to make a choice or else we would be overwhelmed by the many causes.

What about the other causes? Well, we trust people to work on those causes. We believe in their importance. And we support their work by doing ours as well as we can, and trusting they are doing theirs as well as they can. I still get overwhelmed. I still get depressed. But I find that the deeper I go into my particular areas of interest--global healthcare delivery, health care accessibility, ending TB, fighting maternal mortality--the better I feel personally, and the more good I feel like I'm able to do.

2. Johnson & Johnson has not abandoned their secondary patents on bedaquiline but they have committed to allow generics to be available in most countries, even those where the secondary patents apply. Unfortunately this deal leaves out many countries that need generic bedaquiline, including Ukraine, which is absolutely unacceptable. So progress has been made, but the progress (as is so often the case) is inadequate. The fight goes on.

#tuberculosis #global health #partners in health #empathy fatigue

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multifandomgirl08 · 4 months

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Me Against Him - M.V. #1

Max Verstappen x Younger Verstappen Sister!Reader (Platonic), Unnamed Male Character x Younger Verstappen Sister!Reader (Romantic)

Summary: You never wanted to be on the sidelines watching your brother compete, you wanted to be out there with him fighting for a championship.

Warning(s): Dual POVs (Reader and Max), Jos Verstappen (on page), Kelly Piquet (mention). I’m warning for Kelly as a precaution to those who aren’t a fan of her, she was in the request so I’m only writing about her because of that. She will be brought up in part 2.

A/N: Taken from this Request by @fordlita. I had to work with what I felt was important vs. fitting everything that was given to me in the request. That is why it has taken so long to work on this request. Most of this is just set up for part 2, which I've already started working on. I have no plans on extending this further than that.

Words: 1.8k

→ Next Part Formula 1 Masterlist

From the moment that you started karting, you knew that it would never be easy. Being one of the few girls striving to drive in Formula 1 and get a seat. It had always been tough especially since your brother was also working for a Formula 1 seat.

Racing and competing had always come easy to Max, even when you were both karting, your father Jos had always made Max the priority. He would finish working on Max's kart first, he would give Max the more expensive parts. You would put the same time and effort into competing and somehow it was never enough.

Once you had finally made it to F1 Academy and were racing with some of the other top women in the sport things seemed to feel like they were easier for you.

In the eyes of the media, Max was still the prodigal child of Jos Verstappen, and you were just Max's youngest sister, Victoria's twin, and Sophie Kumpen's karting legacy.

You loved your mother, she was the one who encouraged you to give karting a real try, not just because of your father or Max but because you really loved it and racing had made you happy.

Over the two years that you had been in F1 Academy, you had managed to win a championship and eventually, your agent had gotten a call from McLaren to be their reserve driver. You weren’t happy with being their reserve driver. You wanted to be driving for the team. And then you finally got your opportunity.

Six weeks later you had gotten another call from your agent telling you that McLaren wanted to sign you to be their second driver for the upcoming season.

It was everything that you had worked for all your life. You had called your mom and Victoria and shared the news with them. Victoria insisted that she should fly out to celebrate but instead, you offered to fly home to Holland and spend time with her given that she had your nephew Lio a few months ago.

When you had told Max, he had been excited for you and said he couldn’t wait to see you around the paddock all the time, and Max’s girlfriend Kelly even seemed happy for you.

Your father however didn’t have much to say when he heard from Raymond that you ended up signing with the team that you did. It was like you being the first woman to gain a seat in F1 meant nothing to him.

Over the next few years, Max won championship after championship. Your father was forever proud of Max and his achievements. With each championship win, it was like the media had also started to pay more attention to Max. It went from headlines like, “Brother and sister duo Max and Y/N Verstappen take P1 and P2 in Monza” to “Max Verstappen ahead of the rest of the field”. You had read that article. Every driver got at least a good paragraph about that race in Singapore, while you got a single sentence. Y/N Verstappen, younger sister of Max Verstappen started in qualifying P9 before dropping down to P15 during the race because of gearbox issues.

You never wanted to be on the sidelines watching your brother compete, you wanted to be out there with him fighting for a championship.

When the season started again you made a promise to yourself, you weren’t going to focus on Max or your father. Focus on what’s going on on the track, and don’t worry about the rest of the grid. You could still be friendly with Lando when you needed to but it would be easier if you avoided Max altogether. You needed people to see that you were much more than just Max Verstappen's baby sister.

So after the first race of the season, you stopped going to Max and congratulating him after races. Stopped visiting him, Kelly, and P when you weren’t with your fiancé. You didn’t talk to Victoria as often and barely called your mom when things felt like they were too much. You had barely made the effort to talk to your father after his second divorce went through and only spent time with your half-sister when you needed to.

It was just easier to shut them all out. The media couldn’t say anything if there was nothing to talk about.

"This is outrageous, my sister won't talk to me," Max yelled as he stood in his mother’s living room.

Victoria was sitting on the couch while his mother was sitting in the armchair, his father looked stoic. Aside from his father, they were all concerned about Y/N, she didn’t talk to anyone unless it was for birthdays or holidays.

Max was genuinely concerned for his little sister, they had always been close, even closer than Y/N and Victoria had been growing up because while Max and Jos were off in some part of Europe for a karting race Y/N would be with them, offering to help Max without Jos around or wanting Max’s advice on the way that something in her kart wasn’t working right. What she could do to make it better for her and the type of feedback to give their father as he was working on both of their karts.

He had been so proud of Y/N when she signed her contract with McLaren, even if it wasn’t Red Bull or Mercedes. Being able to share podiums with her meant so much since they ended up in different junior categories before they both got to F1. He always wanted her to succeed.

“It's fine Max, she’ll get over it.” His father said leaning back in his chair.

He just glared at him. His father didn’t care that Y/N wasn’t talking to him, he said that it was good for her. She was finally getting podiums and had ended up getting engaged in the last few months. Jos said that it was good, she would keep driving in F1 until she was married and then end up giving up the sport when she was ready to have kids.

Max knew that it was a lie that Y/N had told Jos to shut him up. Y/N wasn’t going to retire until she knew that she had a real chance at winning a WDC, she wanted to be the first woman to accomplish that feat.

At the next race, Max walked by the McLaren garage to try to talk to Y/N but he didn't see her so he ended up looking for Lando instead. He saw him talking with some guy in a suit.

"Yeah, she's a great teammate. A little intense at times, but Max can get like that too." He heard Lando say.

"Do you know why she doesn't talk to them anymore?" He heard the suit guy ask. "From how she brings it up, it's as if they did something. We've been together a long time and I've never even met her family."

"Honestly man, I don't know. That doesn't seem like how I know Max or any of Y/N's family. Maybe talk to Max." Max saw Lando point in his direction. "He is standing, just over there."

At first, Max didn’t recognize the guy in the suit. He was taller than you for sure, and he looked a little too comfortable around the paddock to just be a fan or celebrity. As he got closer Max started to recognize him, he was the man you were engaged to. Max did wonder how you ended up engaged to a real estate broker who was from the States. It seemed so strange to him.

Max walked closer to him, pointing himself towards Lando so the men would think that he wasn't paying him any mind. He didn't want to insult his sister's fiancé, just make the other guy aware that he didn't know who he was.

"Hey, Max, right?" He heard from the guy.

Max turned towards him, looking at the man in the suit. He was a little overdressed for a Formula 1 race.

"Yes, do I know you?" It was a fair thing to ask. Max didn't know him and this guy didn't know Max.

"No, but I know your sister." He offered before stretching his hand out to Max's to shake. "We're together."

That wasn't much of an explanation. He didn't even know if Y/N had told this guy that their family knew that she was getting married but none of them had met him before.

"So you're my baby sister's fiancé." He bit out not taking this guy's hand.

Max wasn't normally rude to anyone. When he was younger, Jos would have ripped him a new one for something like this.

Max could see that the guy was shocked hearing this from him.

"Yeah, I am." He answered.

Part of Max wanted to walk away from him, the part that was angry that his sister wouldn't talk to him and had stopped confiding in him over this last year.

"I just wanted to talk to you about her." He started to say. "She's been different and as her family, I would think that you would want to keep being in her life."

Max immediately wanted to stop this guy from finishing his sentence. This guy had no idea what his relationship with his younger sister was like, and he didn't need this guy to tell him.

Max was quick to look around the room, trying to see if there were reports or cameras around. He didn't need any of those people giving opinions about his family. Luckily all of them weren't in the garage.

"I want to keep being in her life, it's hard to when she's pushed me out of it," Max said cutting him off.

This guy's shoulders instantly dropped a little. He had no idea that it was Y/N who had pulled away from her family and left them in the dark for the last year. This guy was just as clueless as he was.

"I um... I had no idea." Max looked at him and could tell that he felt awkward.

"Yes, well she hasn't been talking to quite a few people lately." Max couldn't help but fire at him. He shouldn't be angry at this guy, but he can't help it. Y/N had been the one to pull away from all of them, and Max knew that the media was to blame for all of it.

He just wanted his baby sister back in his life.

"Maybe we can help each other," His sister's fiancé suggested. "You want your sister back in your life, and I would like to see my fiancée happy again."

Max wanted to think this over. He didn't just want to agree with the guy out of nowhere but he could try to hear him out.

"You have something in mind?" He asked. The man before him nodded.

They agreed to swap numbers and would find a time and place to talk.

F1 Taglist: @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @thatsusbitch

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 imagine #mv1 imagine #f1 imagine #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader

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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year

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So, you know how there are a bunch of Fics where one of the Robins comes back as a ghost when they die? Most of the time it’s Jason, sometimes Tim, and Dick and Damian once in a blue moon

But has there ever been a Ghost Cass AU?

Cass dies while on Patrol, maybe is was a villainous plot, maybe it was a random goon getting a lucky shot, maybe she was killed by somebody she trusted...maybe...

Whatever way she died, Cass ends up as a Ghost.

I can see 2 different paths this could take, depending on where she reforms:

PATH 1: Cass Reforms where she died

Cass is reformed where she died, probably very soon afterwards or a few hours later. The Batfamily have not had time to get over their Grief, they only just retrieved her Body an hour ago and need to go back to the crime scene to investigate.

And once they get there, they see what looks like Cass’s Orphan costume but colored differently, just sitting there in a daze. She just became a ghost, only a few hours after her death due to her exposure to the Lazarus Pits, and it was Jarring. Not to mention the Pure Ectoplasm she is made of is reacting weirdly to the corrupted Ectoplasm that is in Jason, making her anxious.

Meanwhile [Insert Batfam member] and Jason are confused, scared, and paranoid. [Batfam member] remembers reading a few articles in passing while researching Lazarus Pits. They were about the Ectoplasmic Entities made from Lazarus Water called Ghosts, how they are imprints of a human consciousness after an emotional death. They are also completely malevolent and non-sentient.

[Batfam Member] doesn’t hope to believe that this is Cass, all the research says that this is a pile of goop pretending to be her. Of course this makes them mad, not only is this thing wearing their sisters face, it will also probably hurt people when it gets strong enough using said face. It feels like an insult. And Cass can’t even defend herself to them, since she lost whatever was left of her ability to speak when she became a Ghost, and she is too dazed and weak to do Sign Language.

[Batfam Member] explains what they know about Ghosts to Jason, how this isn’t Cass at all, just an imprint of her memories. They say this right in front of her, which scares her since they don’t seem to consider her a person anymore, just a thing using Cass’s face

Back when they first read up on Ectoplasmic Entities, he made sure to get a small Ecto-Infused Knife for everyone in the Family in case they ever encountered one.

They bring it out, but before they can do anything, the Ghost of Cass recognizes it and runs away.

Jason is mad that [Batfam Member] instantly went for the knife, or didn’t think to look for any second opinions.

Cass runs to the Batcave, but she gets there as [Batfam Member] is explaining what Ghosts are on the big screen to everybody else. She also sees her own body, laying on a table in the center of the room. She starts to believe that [Batfam Member] is right, that she can’t be the real Cass, just a reflection. And she can’t stay here, the others are bound the believe [Batfam Member] over her now

She runs away, not even revealing herself to her family.

She runs and runs and runs for hours upon hours, non stop, across state lines, until she reaches a place where her instincts were telling her to go. It feels like the air is clear, like she has more energy. She has made it to Amity Park.

From there you can go in any direction you want.

PATH 2: Cass Reforms in the Zone

Cass reforms in a random place in the Zone, in a color swapped version of her Orphan costume. She wakes up to see a sky of green and ground of purple, completely alone, no one around her.

She wanders for a bit, but a run-in with a Monster forces her to run. As it chases her, she finds that she can fly, but so can it.

As she is running, a blast comes from above her and blasts the monster away. She looks up to see a guy with Green-Blue Skin, pointy ears, and white hair, in a Black Hazmat Suit, floating above her.

He introduces himself as Phantom, and explains that she must be a Ghost. She can’t respond because she lost the last of her ability to speak, but thankfully he knows Sign Language

She can’t remember how she died, but she remembers most of the rest of her life. She takes off her mask, and you can see that she looks like normal Cass with Green Skin, white Hair, and the pointy ears. Also small fangs cause I think those are cool.

Danny helps her around, teaches her about the Zone, introduces his living friends, all that. She even meets a cute clone named Ellie, but that’s besides the point. Eventually, after a few weeks of traveling the Zone and learning about her new abilities, she asks if she can go see her family. Danny agrees, but says that first he should teach her how to shapeshift so she can look human enough to go to the living world.

Which is how Danny and Cass learn that Cass is a Halfa (due to her exposure to the Lazarus Pits). While she is thinking of her human form, a ring of gold energy surrounds her and she suddenly has a heartbeat again. She’s also extremely hungry cause Ghosts don’t need to eat, but Halfa’s do (even if it is significantly less)

By the time she goes to see her Family, they are not as high strung or paranoid as they would have been directly after her death, so they are more willing to listen to reason. Also with Danny there (and maybe ellie), he can explain what she can’t.

But now they don’t know what to do, they still haven't figured out who killed Cass, all they know is that she was definitely killed, it wasn’t an accident.

What comes Next? I also don’t know, I need suggestions!

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psychwxrdd · 2 months

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Chapter I

The Collector (1965)

Summary: Rafe Cameron is obsessed with y/n. Unable to make any normal contact, he decides to add her to his "collection" of pretty, preserved objects, in the hope that if he keeps her captive long enough, she will grow to love him.

🎀 - this is a personal adaptation of the classic The Collector, i love the book and the movie as well and i haven't changed practically anything except for the characters. all copyright to John Fowles, i don't own any of the credits or characters, this is just a fanfic on tumblr for my obx girlies!!

also, rafe is non canon, it's just his looks and name to be honest, cause everything else is just loyal to freddie clegg. lmk what yall think about it!

Rafe Cameron's POV.

Whenever she was home on vacation from boarding school, i used to see her almost everyday, as she lived right in front of the Figure 8. I often saw her leaving and entering the house with her sister and, sometimes, with her friends, who i didn't cared about. I was used, when i freed myself for a moment from the files and statistics, to stand at the window, and, through the frost-fogged glass, i observed the street. Then watching her pass by.

It was the best part of my day: Admiring her beauty. My heart always felt waves of love at her sight, i could phisically feel it. At night, at home, i recorded the incident in my journal, initially with an X and, later, when i discovered her name, her initials. I also met her, several times, on the street. One of the times she went to the door of the Public Library, when i stood behind her in a queue. She didn't even looked at me, but I saw her head and her very beautiful hair clearly. I could feel her scent, her sweet, heavenly scent. Only once, just once, before having her as a guest here, i had the privilege of seeing her hair completely down; It was so beautiful, like a mermaid, i had to take a deep breath. She looked just like an angel, what could i do?

I mean... I'm me. Rafe. I'm the bad guy, the most hated person of Outer Banks. Not even my family likes me, what chances did i stood with such a pure creature like her?

I didn't knew it was possible for an angel like her to exist in a filthy earth like ours.

Another time, on a saturday morning, when i didn't had to work and i went to Country Club. She was there. I immediately saw her sitting three seats in front of me, facing me, and so i was allowed to observe her for thirty-five minutes. Seeing her always made me feel as if i were capturing a true rarity, as if she was carefully bringing me closer, silently, to a butterfly with very beautiful, diffuse colors. I always thought of it as something indefinable and rare, as well as refined — not in other words, even the most beautiful ones. Words from an authentic connoisseur. I knew nothing about her when she was still at boarding school, except that her father was a doctor and that, as i heard, her mother drank a lot. I saw her mother once in a store: she had a high-pitched voice and it was obvious that, in fact, she was trouble. Cursing at other customers for a bottle of whine.

I later read in the local newspaper that she had won a scholarship, that she was very brilliant, and that she had a name as beautiful as herself: Y/n. I then learned that she was studying art. That newspaper article was immensely important to me, it was as if we had become acquainted, as if we had suddenly become intimate, even though, of course, we still didn't even knew each other. She didn't knew me. But, from the very first time i saw her i knew that she was the only one for me. I never saw anything so dreamy, so gorgeous before. And i'm not crazy, of course, since I knew it was just a dream, which it would always have been if it weren't for the money. I used to daydream about her, making up stories about me meeting her, admiring her, marrying her, and so on. She painted pictures, and I took care of my collection (in my dreams). She liked me as much as she liked my collection, whose pieces she drew and painted; We worked together in a big, beautiful modern house, in a huge room, with a huge glass wall.

We had local group meetings, where instead of saying nothing, for fear of making a mistake, we were the very popular host and hostess. Y/n was always the most beautiful of them all, and the other men never got tired of admiring her... She was mine. It didn't mattered who wanted her. Y/n was my girl, she would always be.

The only times i didn't have pleasant dreams about her was when I saw her with a certain young, pretentious, noisy man. Blond, a bit smaller than me, from The Cut, probably. I met him once, while waiting to deposit some money, and heard him say: “Give me everything in five notes." The check was only for ten, and the guy thought it was funny. He thought he was cool shit. Well, i saw her get into his van several times and, on those days, she was always very unpleasant towards my colleagues in the office. I then refused to mark her initials in my journal of entomological observations. It was on those days that I allowed myself to have nightmares. She would then cry or kneel before me. Once, I even let myself dream that i punished her for betraying me like that. Maybe that was when it all started...

In one of the sunday newspapers, i saw a large advertisement for a house on the properties for sale page. I hadn't looked for that section, but the ad caught my attention when I turned the page. The title was: "AWAY FROM THE CRAZY CROWD?” Just that. I then read what the advertisement said: Country house, old, privileged, charming situation, large garden, one hour from Kildare, by car, two miles from the nearest village. And so much more. The next morning i got in the car and went to see it by myself. I called the agent and arranged to meet his representative. That's what money gives us. It makes everything easier for us... there are never obstacles. I had expected to find an old house, dilapidated and in a terrible state of repair. There was no doubt that it was old. The exterior was black and white beams and stone slabs. The seller was already there when i arrived. I thought he might be a rude old man, but it turned out he was an well-educated type, making all kinds of not very witty jokes, as if it were not worthy to sell anything - and there was some difference between selling items in a store and selling houses. He immediately displeased me because he was very curious. I think I can still say that i didn't go there just to see if the house was in a suitable location for me, but to have a guest without anyone knowing. What we do next always makes us forget what we did before. The guy wanted to know if the house was just for me. I told him it was for my stepmom. We were already going downstairs, i thought that we had seen everything. I was getting ready to tell him that the house wasn't quite what i wanted, that it was too small, to make him feel even worse when he told me that we had already seen everything except the cellar and the basement. So, there was a basement?

We had to go through the back, where there was a door next to the kitchen door. We went down some very dark stairs. The lights were off, of course, but he had a flashlight. The basement was very cold and damp, being so far from the sun. The walls had been whitewashed a long time ago, and the lime had begun to fall off, giving way to mold that accumulated in the dampest places. The cellar continued throughout the house, as he told me, and there was another cellar, a few steps below, to which I was led through a small door. It was even bigger than the previous one having a lower, arched ceiling, like the basements that sometimes exist under churches. “The ideal place for orgies,” he said.

"What is this cellar for?" I asked him, ignoring the fucking stupid comment. He replied that it was thought to be because the house was so far from everything and because in the past it was necessary to store large quantities of food and other reserves. It was even possible that it had been a secret chapel of the Catholic Church. Well, we return to the surface and go out into the garden. When he closed the door, it was as if that basement had ceased to exist. It was as if there were two worlds. And that's what it has been. There are certain days when I wake up in the morning thinking it was all a dream, until i return to the basement.

The salesman looked at his watch.

"I'm interested," — I told him, — "very interested."

I was so nervous that he looked at me with a surprised expression. The man said that he had to go get another client who was also interested in the house, and i told him that i would stay there in the garden and think for a while, to be able to make the final decision. It was a very pleasant garden, with the back part covered in lucernes. Ideal plant to attract butterflies. The field behind the house extends to a hill. To the east, on both sides of the road, the woods extend almost to the town. To the west, more fields. The nearest house is a mile away, over the hill. On the south side it was very beautiful. Despite being somewhat hidden by the trees in the garden and the fence that surrounds it. The garage is excellent.

I quickly got into the habit of closing the garden gate. It was, in reality, nothing more than a little door, but it had a lock. Although i still saw some people peeking through the fence, the local people soon realized that it was better to leave me alone. I was finally alone, and only then was i able to dedicate myself to work.

I used to do a certain number of housework, which my dad had taught me. So, i was able to decorate the basement room very nicely, although saying so seems vain on my part. After adding several layers of felt, i covered in white, which went very well with the pink walls. I furnished it with a bed and a chest of drawers, a table, chairs, etc. The small bathroom that had already been installed by the firefighters was separated from the bedroom by a partition, the entrance to which was covered by a beautiful screen. I also made shelves myself and filled them with lots of art, porcelain dolls, books and novels, to try to give that underground room a princess, Y/n look, which I finally achieved. I didn't risk putting pictures on the walls, as i thought her taste must be very advanced. What was her favorite movie? Her favorite band? I was dying to know. I wanted to know every single thing about her, i wanted her to tell me. To cry in front of me and confess her deepest fears, to laugh in her purest way.

One of the biggest problems was, of course, the issue of doors and noise insulation. I therefore had to make a heavy oak door to separate the two sections of the cellar. I must say this was my hardest work. The first one I made didn't work, and I had to make another one, this one much better. No man could broke into that door, let alone a small, fragile girl like her. It was two inches thick, completely lined with metal on the inside, so she couldn't try to pierce the wood, and it was no joke getting it on the hinges. On the outside, I adapted an open closet with shelves, where i placed some tools, so that, if someone entered the first cellar, the door would be disguised, and no one would even notice that there was another room lower down. Everything was quite perfect and, for greater peace of mind, i installed a small electrical alarm system, in case someone wanted to enter the first cellar during the night.

And despite those preparations, i had never thought all this time that the thing was serious. I used to say, talking to myself, that I would never carry out that project: that it was all a simulation. And i would never have had that idea if it weren't for all the time and money i had. In my opinion, many people who may seem normal now would also have done what i did, or similar things, if they had been given the time and money to do so. I mean, doing the things they want to do, even though they know they shouldn't do them. An old teacher of mine always said that power corrupts man. And money is power.

Another thing i did: I bought a lot of clothes for her. Colors that I had always seen Y/n wear. Makeup, everything i knew she would love. I mean, i thought so. I just wanted my darling to have everything. I took every precaution possible and imaginable.

I got used to going and sitting in Y/n's room, trying to figure out if she could escape from there. I had to make sure she would never leave, i had created the perfect dollhouse for her. Did she liked butterflies? I hope so.

tags: @h34rtsformilli 💕

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx fic #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader

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ravencincaide · 4 months

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You pitiful little thing

Summary: Feeling a little lonely, Chuuya gave into the temptation of saving a stray puppy hiding in a cardboard box. Unfortunately for him, the thing he thought was a puppy, was something much less innocent. OR the time a mere mortal mistook a great kitsune for an abandoned stray.

Pairing: Kitsune!reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by sweetober prompt 13: Playing with hair

Author note: Kitsune in Japanese mythology refers to spirits which can shape shift between human and other forms. The older they get the more powerful they become. While some legends portray them as tricksters others describe them as loyal friends, guardians and lovers. You can read up more about them in this article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsune

Also I'd like to thank @soleelia for being a ball plank and someone I could rant to about this idea and finally get inspiration to finish it! Thanks Lia <3

Warnings: Cursing, drinking, smoking stress, finding a stray in a box, Fluffy with a bit of hurt-comfort.

Enjoy ~

_____________________________________________________________

“ Ehh what kind of sick bastard would throw out a puppy?”

You opened a tired eye as the lid of the feeble cardboard box that served as your temporary shelter was pulled open, exposing you to the icy rain and chilly wind. Then your eyes snapped wide open as you realized you were not alone. Above you was a man: ginger hair with mesmerizing blue eyes partially hidden by the shade of his top hat. A forgotten, lit cigarette hung from his lips as he crouched down in front of the box, gloved hands keeping the lid open. He was looking at you closely, with a partially confused and partially surprised expression on his face.

You crouched down lower in the box, ears flattened against your head. You tried -but failed to shift. Your body was still too weak to take on your real form, leaving you in the pitiful shape of a snow white fox cub. Fuck. Bearing your teeth, a growl tore through your throat as you inched backwards until you pressed yourself into the corner furthest away from him. You made yourself as menacing and unwelcoming as possible: Go away human you tried to convey Stay out of matters that do not concern you.

“Hey no need to get pissy with me” the orange haired man muttered as he reached up and took the cigarette between two fingers, taking a deep drag, before he flickered the half finished smoke into a nearby puddle. Then he reached a hand towards you clearly intending to pick you up and out of the soggy box. Instantly you launched forward, sinking your teeth into the leather of his glove. He yelped and pulled his hand back, raising your small body off the floor of the box in the process. You sunk your teeth deeper- half in fear, half in anger at his insolence making him yell louder. With a rough shake he finally got your teeth off his glove, making your body drop back into the base of the box. You let out a low yelp, your injuries, especially your front paw reminding themselves of their existence. Not wanting to appear weak you crouched down again in a defense position.

“ Ouch what the fuck?!” he yelled down at you, shaking his wounded hand back and forth in a feeble attempt to shake off the pain. “ Fine, suit yourself!” the ginger snapped and slammed the lid of the box back over you covering you once again in darkness. “ You wanna be a brat then be a brat goddamn it!” you heard him growl.

A few moments later you felt the box shift and lift, making you flatten yourself against the fragile soaked base. And no amount of growling or hissing seemed to deter him from taking you away or setting your temporary shelter back down onto the ground. Around half an hour later the box finally stopped shifting about and throwing your small body against all four sides. You were royally pissed. Forget about being out of mana and in a fragile injured body, you were going to rip his throat out with your–

You were in a man's apartment.

You could tell from the overly dark expensive design of the room where practicality and price won out over a more homey and warm feeling. The expensive black couch, heated floors and heavy oak bookshelves all reinforced that impression. And it smelled to match; leather, cigarettes and musky cologne. In fact the place looked like something out of a dark romance novel than something anyone would actually live in.

“ Soooo” the ginger haired man started shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, holding the lid of the box in his hands “ Welcome to Chuuya’s hideout– like it?”

You flickered your eyes up to him, resisting the temptation of rolling them as he called his apartment ‘Chuuya’s hideout’. At least you now knew his name. Chuuya– it kind of suited him.

Slowly you took one step and then another one away from the box. You began to carefully look around. Then tilted your head up and sniffed the air; you could tell he lived alone. There were other scents in the apartment but they were weak- mere reminisce of earlier visits and old gifts stuffed in closets or hidden behind locked doors. None of these scents were familiar to you. Unsurprising. Still, what a strange man he was, having a fully stocked wine fridge in what you assumed was the living room and yet not a single picture frame anywhere.

Strange indeed.

You took more steps around the place, noting that there were more doors that lead further into the apartment. All of them closed; clearly he didn’t want you to go exploring too far on your own. Very well then. Your eyes landed back on the couch which was now right beside you and you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you. Your paw thumbed, reminding itself of its existence. Still you rested your weight onto it through gritted teeth before jumping up.

“ Nonono No– not the italian leather” you heard him sigh as you curled up in a ball, draping your long fluffy tail over your body, and burying your face in it. Then you closed your eyes, giving yourself an innocent appearance. But he better not be fooled- you were one hundred percent on high alert, your ears listening intensely for any movement or action he would take. Said ears twitched as your head him groan again to himself.

“ Don’t make holes in it” Chuuya stated half angry, half pleading “ Or– Or– I’ll shave you!” he threatened. You opened an eye and stared at him. The action made him huff slightly. “ I really will!”

He wouldn’t. You could tell.

Growling under his breath Chuuya tossed the soaked lid back into the cardboard box he brought you in before kicking it in the direction of the front door. The box flew a surprising distance and landed right by the entrance. Then you heard him go to the kitchen; the sound of washed hands and opening and closing of cupboards and the fridge echoed in the otherwise silent apartment.

You closed your eyes, salvaging whatever rest you could get in this warm place; a place that was significantly more comfortable than the cold outside or any of the other shelters you had sought out in the past weeks. In fact you were close to dozing off when you heard him re-enter the living room. You pretended to be asleep, listening to whatever he would do. Acting defenseless was a good way to judge character- if he meant you any harm or knew what you were- surely he would act while you were asleep.

Instead of danger and threats that were so familiar to you, you were met with surprising softness that almost didn’t suit his character.

Chuuya placed a rug down on the opposite side of the room, as far as he could away from the leather couch. “ Here” he said “That’s where you’ll be sleeping until this goddamn tsunami passes and I can get you a proper bed that’s your own.” It seems he knew you were not asleep- or maybe he was speaking aloud out of habit?

You couldn’t tell. But your interest peaked when you heard him leave the room and then come back a moment later. You heard him set down a glass dish, your nose filled with the sweet scent of meat and cheese. High grade cuts- not the scraps you’d normally feed a stray.

Interesting.

Suddenly you heard his phone ring. Chuuya cursed, then sighed, clearly not wanting to answer it. He let the song play for a long while, at first making it seem he would ignore the call. Then before the last tune finally played he answered, bringing the device to his face. He sounded cold as he answered, annoyed even. And his body language reflected that. Almost instantly Chuuya reached for a bottle of wine from the wine fridge, popped the bottle open and poured himself a glass. He twirled the alcohol in his hand while he listened to whatever the person on the other end was saying to him. Then he started pacing, muttering curses and insults while waving the glass of wine carelessly in his hand.

Opening your eyes, you watched him carefully for a few moments. The frustration and stress which radiated from his body, sadness and aggravation. He downed the first glass of wine before pouring himself another. After the third glass he stopped pacing and just stood in the corner of the room. Silent now, but sadder. Definitely caught up in the complicated mix of memories, work and emotion.

You paid him little attention. Jumping down from the couch, you were careful to put as little weight onto your injured paw as possible before you slowly trott over to the plate of food he set down for you. The cuts of cheese and meat were, as you first guessed, of high quality. The kind that was used for festive dinners instead of petfood. This would do, you concluded, as you slowly began to eat. The second you moved away from the couch Chuuya moved and sat down onto it, opening his second bottle of wine. This time he did not bother with a glass, and drank directly from the bottle.

The phone call lasted another half an hour or so. But even as it ended Chuuya didn’t stop drinking. If anything he cursed loudly under his breath, and doused his emotion in the alcohol. By the end of the second bottle he was a mess, by the start of fourth he was no longer sitting up. Swaying in and out of consciousness.

You couldn’t understand why a human would get so shit-faced drunk that he would end up sprawled out on his own couch, shivering and snoring- torturing himself with nightmares of his own making. For a long moment you sat and watched Chuuya from a distance. The way he’d mutter things- names- in his sleep. Then tighten his arms around himself in a lonely hug.

Comfort? Longing?

Humans are pitiful creatures you mused but perhaps–you cut your trial of thought off and slowly inched closer. Over the rug, past the bottles of wine and between the legs of the couch-side glass table, Then you jumped up onto the couch flinching as steadied yourself on your injured paw. You waited until the pain subsided until you began walking: skillfully inching the lengths of the fine leather. Before finally jumping down onto the space beside him. You hesitated only for a moment before you stepped onto him; feeling his muscles easily support your cub-weight.

You could tell he was awake- holding hisbreath.

You inched upwards until you found his stomach- perhaps the softest part of bone and muscle that made up this man. Before curling yourself up into a ball, making a semi-comfortable sleeping spot. You closed your eyes, remaining calm even as he raised his hand and trailed his fingers through your fur; strand by strand, studying its fluffy texture. Then he applied more pressure, trailing the lengths of your body with his entire hand. It wasn’t long until that hand buried itself in your fur, pulling you closer to himself. You shivered under his touch and subconsciously wrapped your fluffy tail around his wrist keeping his hand close.

“ Ahh Sweetheart, you’re such a good puppy,” Chuuya whispered in a thick voice, somewhere between sleepy, drunk and teary. You replied with a low threatening growl. How dare this mortal compare you to something as insignificantly small as a mere puppy.

“ Okay okay not a puppy” Chuuya chuckled, continuing to pet your fur “ But a good girl nonetheless.”

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #Chuuya fluff #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #kitsune #picking up stray #hurt/comfort #sweetober #bsd fluff

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lilacsareinbloomagain · 4 months

Note

Ik you said you’re on break but that’s okay! I can wait lmao

I’m obsessed with your yandere lu writings. I would love a yandere Time x fem reader where he like extra creeps on reader? I’m talking like spying on them n shit and maybe stealing an article of clothing just bc it smells like them

Lord help me that sounds so weird

Why am I like this

Help

Thank you so much for requesting for my boy Time!

Notes: No no I like your way of thinking, give me your worst. Me, personally, I can be way worse than that lol

In fact, I may have accidentally made this creepier than I meant to, idk

By the way, when I said underpants in this I meant those white pants thing Link uses, which is probably called tights or something, but I didn't want you guys to read this and imagine reader with, like, fishnets by accident lmao

Time has anxiety and I'll not elaborate

I was gonna post this tomorrow, but ya know

TWs: Yanderism, stalking, suggestiveness, clothing stealing.

Yandere! LU! Time x Reader

In a way, Time was like a cat.

There was no way you could just ignore random articles of your clothes going missing every time you went to bath.

No matter where you went to clean yourself, it was like one part of your outfit was picked out by hand and evaporated, be it your undershirt, underpants, socks, and sometimes even your underwear!

You tried everything to prevent it, hiding your clothes, setting up traps… You only drew the line when it came to anything to do with poison, since you couldn't bear to possibly end up killing an innocent animal just for the sake of clothes.

Even if said clothes somehow always ended up randomly returning unscathed to the rest of your laundry.

Time and time again, this topic was brought up in conversations with the men you traveled alongside. Yet, for some reason, the matter was also time and time again swept under the rug. It never got solved, neither did it ever get discussed, more often than not.

Starkly different from your point of view, Time found it pretty cute how you got all fussy over some little clothes, clothes which he could easily just make you throw away and buy new ones, it's not like he was lacking the rupees for it, after all.

Yet, he couldn't find it within himself to keep pressing on that matter, not when you looked just so embarrassed protesting against the idea of throwing away your under clothes, stressing about how comfortable your clothes were and about how they were your favorite because of that exact reason.

From what he's noticed, you barely ever wore anything else, no matter how many clothes they could offer you, which was proof of just how much you adored that outfit, each part that composed it having been carefully thought out before being picked out by your hand back when they first went to the market to look for an appropriate Hyrulean attire for you.

It was more than obvious by now that you weren't planning on getting rid of it any time soon.

Still, despite all your best attempts to keep your clothes safe, you couldn't really stop them from randomly disappearing, that is, unless you stopped bathing, and that was something you obviously couldn't even consider doing.

So, you simply sighed with resolution as you took off your clothes to once again go into the river next to the camp, wanting to wash off any grime that may have rubbed on you from the last battle the Links went through before you guys left for the next village.

A little ways down in the same river, you knew the other men were washing themselves, that way, a scream would be all they needed know to come over to help you, should anything happen.

Not that anything had ever happened to you while you were bathing.

You kind of felt like you were being watched, but then again, you learned to not pay attention to that, after all, your brain always seemed to like playing tricks on you, be it making you think you saw the shadows in the corner of your eye moving, or strange noises coming from bushes, all of which always proved to be absolutely nothing at all. Especially the strangely distinctive smell of Time rubbing off on your clothes...

Besides, whenever you looked around yourself to see if your senses were correct, you'd only be able to hear the calm silence of the river waters, almost as if the fish itself held back from swimming every time you tensed up.

The regular calming ambiance noises returned when you finally stopped being paranoid, going back to washing yourself with a relieved sigh, knowing the feeling of being watched was just a product of your tricky mind.

Sound doesn't travel much underwater. Should it be sounds of heavy breathing, sounds of something much larger than the river fish swimming, or even the heavy sounds of metal boots sinking into the sandy floor of the river with every step their wearer took.

Time observed with certain amusement as you walked around the shallow part of the river, your head just above the surface, your feet dangling dangerously near the deeper part. One wrong step and you could risk drowning.

However, you seemed to be having fun while cleaning yourself, enjoying the cool, clean water. The elder, though, was having his own fun watching you.

He had to give it to you though, no matter what you did, your movements were always so captivating to him. He had already seen a lot in his life, many races, creatures and even monsters. Yet you had such a… Human way of behaving. Even if humans were so alike hylians, you still seemed different in a way, a very good way in his eyes.

What was even more interesting to him was the fact that you were still different from the other humans he'd met through his life.

More often than not your actions were unpredictable and random, not at all serious, it was like you somehow weren't very phased after getting kicked out of whatever universe you originally belonged in and into another. An universe that was extremely dangerous and distinct from yours. His universe.

You were very, very far from your home, yet he could still see some of it in the way you spoke, behaved and reacted to the things and beings around you.

Sometimes, he'd catch himself becoming infatuated again with the stuff that he was already used to, simply because you seemed so surprised and excited by them.

Things he saw in his everyday life and just happened to ignore. Places, people, animals, creatures, plants, you name it. You gave him a renewed view of life, the whole "enjoy the small things in life" a concept so simple that still managed to make him feel truly alive again.

When he was with you he felt like Hylia and the Golden Goddesses themselves were paying him back for all heroic deeds he performed. In his eyes, you saved him.

In no time, watching the stars with you became a new routine, you were always so interested in them, yet still didn't seem to mind when he preferred to do something else, as to avoid looking at the moon.

Therefore, counting and catching fireflies was the next best thing.

And before he even noticed, he had bought an extra satchel at the market just so he could collect and buy those things that reminded him of you, things he noticed you pointing out whenever you saw. Pretty rocks, shiny crystals, colorful shells, and even those silly little trinkets that, in his eyes were useless, yet brought happiness to yours.

You'd even managed to make him blush the other day, when you told him he was acting like a cat, placing gifts by your bedroll at night, while you were asleep.

Yes, you made him blush. Him, The elder, The Hero Of Time that was also The leader their group, a group made up of the strongest men known in the history of Hyrule.

But, in a way, you were actually correct.

Cats are very attached to their favorite person, enough to follow them around and watch them do the most simple things, like sleeping, or bathing.

He didn't feel like admitting to those things though, especially not to stealing your clothes.

At first, he assured himself that he was doing all that watching just to make sure you were safe, after all, bathing time was the only moment of the day when you were “fully alone” or so you thought. Time would never forgive himself if you accidentally got hurt because of his lack of attention to you, even if the “hurt” in question was merely a scratch on your knee from accidentally slipping while bathing.

He knew better than anyone that too much peace meant something bad could happen at any time, and too little peace was even worse! Therefore, there was no middle ground, you needed to be protected at all times. And the fact he also got a little fun out of guarding you didn't hurt anyone. After all, what the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel.

He didn't even try lying to himself about stealing your clothes, he wasn't that delusional, after all, liking your smell didn't sound like too good of an excuse to tell you, should you find out about that little habit of his.

In a way, he wasn't even hidden right now, per say, he was just not in plain view.

In fact, sometimes even hoped you saw him, so that he'd be able to stop just watching and join you already.

After all, you wouldn't be able to get hurt if he was right there beside you, right?

Let him keep pretending that's the only reason he wanted to join you in the bath.

#tw: yandere #yandere x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere link x reader #lu time #lu time x reader #yandere lu time #yandere lu time x reader

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slythereen · 6 months

Note

Hello there!

I’m new to f1 and Lestappen.

Is there a Charles and Max master post somewhere with their history? I keep hearing about the social media unfollowing and podium walk off and want all the tea and timelines.

Basically all I know about is the inchident.

Many thanks!

hello and welcome!! my scholarship (read: obsessively reblogging things or bookmarking them thinking i'll actually find them again later) tends to be VERY chaotic, but i know there are definitely compilations out there. i've read some great ones.

nini (@scuderiafemboy) has a LOT of lore content on tumblr and twitter & does a lot of translating of dutch interviews/manages to unearth old interviews all the time. the twitter thread of threads covers 2018 through june 2023! she also compiled some of the database on tumblr here.

@chibrary archives interviews, articles, etc., in glorious fashion. this is charles centric but naturally charles' history intersects with max's so there are some good pieces in there, like this 2015 article on the lestappen rivalry in karting. the #driver:max tag provides a lot of golden content (such as extended lore on the inchident!).

moments™

marginally related, but dani (lecstappens on twitter) once posted the video of max and charles being scolded and warned to behave themselves during the race following the inchident. one of my favorite pieces of lestappen info frankly... demon children. (also on posted by @il-predestinato on tumblr here. who, btw, is a gold mine of lestappen content.)

well, as long as i'm adding some favorite gems while i try to find the specific post i'm looking for... the lestappen singapore flag moment is my roman empire. i am also haunted by the awkward weather convo video. which i know is out there, but i am going crazy trying to find it.

i decided to just commit to the moments list, so here is charles drinking red bull gate 2023 (courtesy of @countingstars-17)

charles asking the tifosi to stop booing max at monza this year (@il-predestinato seriously has so much content)

this excerpt of max's manager talking about charles (@blueballsracing)

if i don't stop myself i will be here all year

more mini compilations !!

@hyacinthsdiamonds once produced a nice list of the ridiculous lore around lestappen that sounds made up

some 2021 specific "best moments" compiled by @coconutshygame

there is one post i am thinking of that touched on their wild lore/destined f1 rivalry etc. but i can't find it now so stay tuned 🫡

also, for some theorizing on the most recent lestappen debacles and what it all means with ferrari/rbr and a potential charles to rbr (ot charles to more power at ferrari) move:

@tsarinablogs is a Scholar™ with lovely essays

@valyrfia has an addition to the marketing mayhem

i recently compiled my unhinged #rbr-ferrari sticker war content to advocate for rbr charles here, which was added to by this anon with banger points

personally i use #rbr charles for the theorizing and delulu hours, but i think #lestappen rbr and #lestappen gate 2023 are also prime hunting ground for rbr specific lore

anyone who has info to share pls do ❤️ i know i'm missing loads of scholarship that is lost in the pits of my unorganized blog

#what i have learned lately is i should be tagging my specifically again afnkafas #me never finding anything else #getting distracted by lestappen but not the lestappen i need #typical #*oracles #rbr charles #lestappen #oh now is a good time #lestappen lore #ah ha #new tag!#f1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #tag purists dont @ me this isnt really shippy

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in-hav3n · 9 months

Note

okay HEAR ME OUT. you're the third blog i send this to because the others didn't repost it and i desperately need people to hear this because i can't stop thinking about it.

i just know that the reason james has always had such hot muscular arms is because he fucks in the air or against the wall.

i'm sure.

(i want him to fuck me like this)

okay, that's it, have a nice day. bye.

PS: in case someone is confused (i doubt it but you never know) my point is that if he fucks someone against the wall or in the air he has to lift her and hold her there for quite some time which means: 💪🏻

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓

WARNINGS : NSFW - rough sex - sex scene - age gap

It's an ordinary day in Colorado. You are lazy on your couch, busy reading a random magazine.You are completely bored by the lack of interesting articles until you heard James coming from the backyard door after working on his cars in his garage all the afternoon. He greets you with a smile and a little hand wave on his way to the kitchen. He needs to clean his greasy hands and finally joins you with a glass of water in his hand. Sat at your feet, you would both chatted for a while about your day and stuffs you've done.

"You're pretty sweat", you comment after a while, noticing how shiny his arms are. James had leaned a bit, resting his back against the couch as he was scratching his head pensively. He turned to see your hand on his skin and chuckled.

"It's pretty hot outside and I worked a lot. Had a lot of heavy things to carry in the garage to fix that old car I bought", he explained as flexing a bit his arm.

"Whatever it was...made you do a bit of work out", you giggle, your hands looking very small compares to his arm's size.

He was wearing a black tank top which was a good outfit that shows perfectly how tough James was. You bite your lower lip and start to squeeze his arms, palpating his muscle with your fingers. James giggles too at your remark and flexes his muscles more to show you how impressively muscular they were.

"But that's not going to the gym or carrying heavy stuffs that gave me those arms you know", he declares with a grin, turning his head in your direction, not leaving your gaze. You raise an eyebrow in a curious way.

"Oh really? What is it then?", you tease him as going on your knees to be closer.

"You wanna know, hum?". James' hand on you naked knee to rub your skin slowly is enough to make you shiver hard. You hum and nod frantically, even more curious.

And this is how you end up on his laps, arms around his neck while his hands were on your thighs, lifting up he edge of your dress over your hips. You were sharing a passionate, hungry and feverish kiss as taking each other's clothes off. His tank top first, in a hurry, before you take care his short with shaking hands. He helps you by removing it completely, kicking off his flip flops to get rid of his clothes.

Meanwhile his hands slips the straps of your dress. James moans of satisfaction when he discovers you're not wearing a bra today and expose your breasts to feast on them. You whine of pleasure and roll your hips on his hard member, showing him what you want. He is already hard beneath you and your cunt is already pulsing at the idea of being fucked so unexpectedly on this lazy afternoon in your living room. Even tough it wasn't the first time that such things happened...

"Take off your panties baby", he commands between two kisses, your tongues moving perfectly together for a sensual dance.

You moan in agreement and roll next to him to quickly take if off, throwing it somewhere else on the couch. You also took off your dress in a hurry. Once done, you straddle him again with a giggle of pleasure, rolling your hips again on his hard member. The physical touch between your soft pussy lips and his hard dick soft skin is enough to drive you both crazy.

"So needy...", James whispers with a grin on his face as caressing your butt, even adding a spank. "You want me to fuck you now?"

"Oh yes baby, do it", you reply as biting his earlobe. He groans low like a beast. You are driving him crazy as well with your touch and gestures.

James hurries himself to glide his hands between your two bodies to grab his member, puts him in a straight position to help you sit on it. You slowly sink on, stretching you out until you arrive at the base with a gasp of pleasure.

"Oh yes...", you moan low, almost in a whisper, eyes closed, leaning against his shoulders for support. You are used to this position and James knows you need to take your own pace first to adjust yourself at his size. So he just leans against the couch, hands on your butt to join your ass movements, helping you to get ready.

"That's it baby", he says low as watching you bouncing slowly on his dick, feeling the enjoyable feeling of it inside your warm and wet pussy's walls. "Get yourself ready...move on my cock...so I can show you my trick".

You frown, keeping the rythm, curious to know what he's talking about. His trick? You simply nod and move until you feel it's time.

"I'm ready James", you tell him in a gasp as you move easier on him, your inner walls being now completely stretched out and you pussy being wetter.

And this is how suddenly James grips you tight, holding your body against his as he carefully gets up from the couch. You quickly wrap your arms around his neck for support, tightening your legs against his chest and crossing your ankles behind his back. He holds you tight with his hands under your butt and you feel his dick popping out of you.

"Oh!", you moan of surprise with a giggle. James chuckles with a smile at your reaction and walks slowly. You have no idea where he's going.

"So...what's this trick, big man ?", you tease him with a grin, your fingers lovingly rub his neck and the short hair there.

James smiles bigger and he only answers you when your back hits the wall of your living room. You let out an other low gasp of surprise when your skin hit the cold material.

"I hope you're ready cause I'm gonna pound into you so hard..."

"So hard uh?", you tease again as biting his lower lip in a sexy way, not leaving his gaze.

"So hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow".

You giggle loud at his comment. "Really ?".

James doesn't give you time to tease him more. He manages to free one of his hands to line up again with your entrance, even adding some saliva to help and in one push, he thrusts in you. You gasp of surprise, closing your eyes to enjoy this new sensation. You feel a hint of pain tough, the angle is really different and quite new,

James knows you well and is able to read your expression. He feels your pussy contracting around him and understands you need some time again to adjust. He stops his moves until he sees you nodding to move again. He moves slowly first, holding you tight against him with his two forearms underneath your knees, your back still on the wall to have a balance. He opened a bit his legs to have some kind of balance too and for more strength to push inside you.

"Oh my god James...", you moaned with a low voice, your head resting against the wall behind you for some seconds before resting on his shoulder.

"Does it hurt baby?", James rested his cheek against yours, whispering into your ear.

"Not anymore...feels good", you pant, still not believing how good this is.

He starts to move a bit faster, his hands enveloping you butt to slowly make you bounce on him.

"Oh yes...feels even better...like this". This was like doing some work out, like lifting some weights. And a smile appears on your lips at this thought. This is how James got his big and tough arms then and you absolutely love this.

"Don't stop baby please...", you beg with moans, your nails digging into his shoulder's flesh now. James groans and moans low, his head swinging back as he enjoyed the feeling of your warm walls tightening around his dick.

"You're gonna make me cum if you keep moving like this", just saying this is enough to stretch you even more and his dick finds his way deeper inside you. You gasp again with a loud whine, gripping his neck stronger to not fall. James feels it too and this helps him to pound deeper, pouding your spot with no mercy. It was good, it was hard, it was obscene the way your body were moving but you didn't care.

"OH YES!", you moan louder again, your head leaving his shoulder to hit the wall behind, as you start to pant harder. Luckily no one could hear your desperate and loud whines of pleasure.

"Gonna...cum...baby?", James asks, also panting as he keeps the pace, making you bounce on his cock as well as moving his pelvis to thrust deeper. He was doing a real work out exercice, using all his body to give you such pleasure.

You simply nod, head still against the wall as your teeth bite strongly your lower lip. You are on the edge of cumming hard, harder than you felt before with other positions. This one is just perfect to make you feel new sensations and James perfect moves are just the cherry on the cake.

"Yes...like this...don't stop, oh my god! I'm gonna cum James...I'm gonna!", you pant harder and harder until you let go this good and powerful sensation that was growing inside your inner belly. You are not able to talk anymore, you're only able to mumble some words and high whines or moans while your eyes roll behind.

James grips your knees tighter to keep his strength until the end. He wants you to ride your orgasm and feels your walls contracting and pulsing around his dick. "Cum on my cock baby, that's it! Enjoy it...feel it", he pants, feeding his own excitement with this sight of you reaching your orgasm.

He stops moving only when he feels you relaxing, when the pleasure invade your senses and spread in all your body. You have a satisfied smile on your lips, some sweat drops between your breasts. Some hair are even stick on your forehead. He smiles and pushes your body against his chest to kiss you tenderly. Then he slowly pushes out his swollen dick before helping you to go back on the floor. His lips never leave yours.

"I understand know why you have big arms baby", you tease him after the kiss, biting his lip in a loving gesture. Your hands touch his arms, still impressed by what just happened.

"I told you, I never did work out...but I practice this a lot", he grins and leans again to kiss your tenderly. You giggle during the kiss before your hand wrap around his swollen and hard cock.

"Now let me show you how I work my mouth's muscles", you tease him with a sexy glance as kneeling in front of him, ready to give him the best blowjob of his life...

A/N : Here's a little reminder of how big and sexy James arms are 🤭 I picture your idea really well in my mind sweet anon. I used HTSD era cause this is one of my fav and I love his tough daddy style but it can be with any era you want ! This is how I imagine this...

#james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #htsd james #smut #oooh i loved this idea #hope you'll enjoy it #we know your secret james #big arms not because of work out #request 6 #6

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